


Reunion

by ALWrite



Series: Outlaw [7]
Category: 3:10 to Yuma (2007)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Family Drama, Father-Daughter Relationship, Post-Canon, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-07-25 20:14:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 46,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16204859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALWrite/pseuds/ALWrite
Summary: Ben Wade undertakes a journey to visit the places that were important to him in the past.In San Francisco he meets someone he had all but forgotten.





	1. A perilous journey

 

A baby's wail in the middle of the night. _Oh no. Not again._

 

Ben Wade turned in his bed and groaned. He stared at the ceiling and mentally prepared himself to block out the sounds from next door which would inevitably arise: Johnny getting out of bed, picking up his baby daughter; Lilly, turning away and grumbling to leave her in peace; Johnny whispering to Lilly to bare her breast and let their daughter suckle; Lilly, groaning again, reluctant to comply.

Ben heaved a sigh and got up. _No use. He couldn't get back to sleep._ Without a sound, he rose and got dressed.

Half an hour later Johnny joined him in the kitchen, his little daughter in his arms. Ben poured him a cup of coffee.

"Thanks," Johnny mumbled, red-eyed. The baby gave a sound like the mewling of a kitten.

"How is she?" Ben asked. Something wrong?"

"Nah..." Johnny answered, putting his cup down on the table. "She just needs to feed, that's all. Little Rachel here is a wonderful baby."

"Seems she is crying a lot at night," Ben remarked, but Johnny shook his head.

"Not half as much as Johnny did."

"No? Don't remember Johnny fussing like this."

"Oh, he did. I remember after I came back - Johnny had just been born - he woke two or three times at night. Each time I was panicking because I thought there was something wrong with him. It was you who told me to calm down. You said babies did that, and that Lilly had been just the same when she was little."

Ben chuckled. _Yes. Johnny was right. He had quite forgotten. Lilly, too, had woken him up at night, and he had had to convince a sleeping Rachel to feed their daughter because - alas - being a man, this was something he couldn't do._

He looked at the baby in Johnny's arms and watched his son-in-law tickle his daughter to elicit a smile from her. The girl's big brown eyes were fixed on her father and she gurgled happily.

_Little Rachel._

As soon as he had seen the baby Ben had seen the similarity. She looked exactly like her dead grandmother. And Lilly had seen it, too. 'Rachel,' she had pronounced the baby was to be called - against her former plans to call her 'Ellen' after Mrs. Miller.

Was it the name? He wasn't superstitious, but Ben had never been able to build up a close relationship with Baby Rachel.

 

"Johnny... I been thinking..." Ben started but didn't finish his sentence.

"What?" Johnny asked. His father-in-law had been edgy for weeks now, and Johnny didn't know what to make of it. In all the years Johnny had known him, Ben had never been moody or difficult - but during the last few weeks he had grown restless, quick to lose his temper when the ranch hands made mistakes, and almost unpredictable in his reactions. Johnny was glad Ben had decided to speak up and let him in on his thoughts.

"I want to go away for a while," Ben said.

If Johnny was surprised, he didn't show it.

"Where do you want to go?" he asked.

Ben shrugged. "Places I have been... Leadville... Dodge City... Like to see San Francisco again. Got some good memories of the place." He couldn't quite interpret Johnny's look at him, and so he continued, "I'm not needed here at the moment, and there's a few things I want to do."

His voice died away, and he sank into a reverie. A feeling grew in Johnny that this wasn't the first time Ben had been thinking about this trip. _Looked like he had even worked out his route._

Johnny couldn't understand what Ben was looking for. He was too young to comprehend Ben's motives, but he knew one thing.

"Going to Leadville and Dodge City might not be a good idea," he said. "Lots of rascals in those towns, I heard. If you are recognized they might want to..." He fell silent. _Was it wise to remind Ben of his age?_

"They might what?" Ben asked. "Try to take on the famous 'Ben Wade'?" He chuckled. He was not as naive as Johnny thought him to be. But the outlaw Ben Wade had been gone for more than twenty-five years now, he had long since been replaced by other 'celebreties'. It was unlikely that he would be recognized by anybody. Most of the people who had known his life as an outlaw were probably dead, anyway.

"Johnny... I'm sixty-five now. Nobody remembers me."

"Your name is still out there," Johnny objected. "Don't underestimate its power."

_Perhaps Johnny had a point. But even so..._

The urge to leave, to move on was growing on Ben. After all the years of hard work, of raising horses and training them, of building up the ranch and an honest name... it suddenly seemed to him as if the seasons held no more charm. It was as if he had already seen it all, done it all. He found himself sitting absent-mindedly at his tasks, asking himself _'Was there anything left to learn? Anything left to do?'_

And in the wake of these thoughts came others;  _'Was this it? Was there anything else to life, or was it going downhill from now on - to the end? Had he lived too long?'_

Once more, the haunted outlaw came to the surface, the man who had walked the earth decades ago... the man who had chosen to avoid people to evade the pain they inflicted...the man who yet had to seek them out to take from them by force what was denied him by their rules.

Ben didn't know it himself, but his anxiety wasn't so much fear of age or death. It was a quest. He was looking for the meaning of his sixty-five-year-long life.

 

When Lilly heard of her father's plans, she was outright against them.

"What if something happens to you?" she asked.

Ironically enough, her words were the push Ben needed to really pack and go. He had never liked being tied down by anything or anybody, but being restrained in his needs by his own daughter was the final straw.

_Who did she think she was? Just because he had had a small riding accident a year ago didn't give her the right to declare him an old man. After all, he was still his own master! And it would do her good to be a little bit less dependent on him, too!_

And so, a week after first mentioning his idea to Johnny, Ben boarded a train in Pah-Rimpi to go east - first towards Leadville and Dodge City, and then on to wherever his mood would take him... perhaps to the glamour of St. Louis, perhaps South to the desert landscape of Arizona where his name had once been famous.

 

    

 

 


	2. A place from long ago

A month later Ben stood in the train station in Contention.

His first stop had been Leadville where once - oh, so many years ago - he had encountered the beautiful whore Velvet. But the city had crumbled away to nothing. The mines were empty, their riches long since exhausted. Practically everybody had moved on to find work and leave this place that even in the old days had been at best unhealthy; at worst fatal. The people who had stayed behind were the ones who were too old or too ill to start anew. Ben had felt nauseated to see it.

He had moved on to Dodge City, recalling how he had once described the city as the 'meanest, most beautiful dirty city there ever was' to young William Evans. Well, it was still a dirty city. But now, in the year 1895, it wasn't glamorous any longer.

Dodge City had suffered from the closure of the Western Trail years ago. The cowboys were gone, and with them the steady flow of money. Just like Leadville, Dodge City had turned into a sleepy little town, and instead of the cancans and the gambling halls Ben only found empty buildings and a quiet community. And so he had moved on again - this time to Bisbee in Arizona.

 

In Bisbee, he actually met someone he had encountered before; Emma Nelson was still there. Still in Bisbee after more than twenty-five years, and still serving beer and whisky in the same saloon.

She had turned old - naturally. After all, so had he. But she had also turned fat, and her voice had gone hoarse from too many drinks over too many years. He remembered how he had once called her 'skinny' and touched her slender neck. Striking up a conversation with her without revealing who he was, she told him about her life in Bisbee, and that once she had bedded the famous outlaw Ben Wade.

He looked at her wistfully, but she didn't recognise him. _Had he changed so much? Perhaps. Or, perhaps, he had never been important enough to be remembered. His famous name, yes... not the man who bore it._ Emma told him that she had once been a singer and that she had meant to go to Mexico to sing. But then something had happened, and she had stayed in Bisbee.

Ben remembered only too well the time he had spent in her bed and his offer to take her down to Mexico - an offer she had declined - and he didn't ask any further. _What for? He wouldn't hear the truth, anyway. She had convinced herself that she might have been a famous singer if fate hadn't interfered - why should he shatter the story she had fabricated for herself by confronting her with the dissatisfying truth?_

After finishing his beer he left, taking a feeling of emptiness with him. He bought a horse and rode the track the posse had led him more than twenty-five years ago - through the desert and the mountain pass on to Contention.

 

~~~

 

As he stood on the platform in Contention watching a train arrive - a modern train, this time, with Pullman wagons, not the huffing and puffing old engine any longer- he remembered how whistling for Ribbon and getting off the train had for once and all delivered him from his life as an outlaw.

He stood and tried to remember what it had been like back then, how it had felt having to ride from town to town, never staying anywhere for fear of discovery. A shiver ran through him as he recalled numerous occasions when he had to get up and run, no matter what he was doing at the time.

 _How could he have done this again and again? Lived this life on the run year after year? How was it possible he had stayed alive?_ He just couldn't remember any more.     

And he understood that he was no longer 'Ben Wade, the notorious outlaw'. He had left this part of his life behind him forever. It had drowned in the years during which he had built up his ranch and had brought up Tommy and Lilly. It was impossible to bring it back to life again - even in memory.

He wandered the streets, unsure where to go from here. Just like once Contention and this train station had seen the last moments of his life as an outlaw, he felt he was now at the end of another road. _But which road was that? And which direction should he turn to?_

 

 

It was days later when Ben boarded the train that was to take him to San Francisco that the excitement came back to him. San Francisco held good memories for him, and he was looking forward to the changes that had certainly come about this town.

As the landscape outside passed him slowly by, memories of his youth emerged and rose before his inner eye: memories of a pair of green eyes smiling at him, memories of first tentative kisses stolen in the shade of a building, memories of a young girl giving herself to a young man...

 

~~~

 

Ben woke brutally from his pleasant musings when the conductor announced their next stop. It was the name of a small town Ben knew only too well. The train came to a halt and - spontaneously - Ben grabbed his bag and jumped off.

 

Yes, there it was.

Ben stood in the train station that had forever changed his young life.

The station hadn't changed at all. Everything seemed frozen in time. Even the small-town smell of the place was unchanged.

There was the bank he had sat on for three says... with the ticket office right behind it. A derisive snort escaped Ben's lips; if his mother had really wanted to buy tickets for them, then he wouldn't have had to lose sight of her.

A last memory of his mother leaving the station passed through hi, then it was gone. Like a dying ember that scene from his childhood went cold. It was finished, the pain over for good. He was sixty-five now. He doubted that his mother was still alive. He was sure now that he would never learn what had become of her. _Did it still matter?_   

Ben thought of Tommy whom he had encountered in a train station and whom he had raised as if he were his own son. He thought of Lilly and the years he had taken care of her all by himself. It hadn't been easy, but now she was married to Johnny and had a family of her own.

Whatever reasons his mother had once had to leave him behind - they weren't important any longer. He had kept his own kids safe. There was nothing he had to prove to anybody now. And there was no point in dwelling on dark thoughts.

Ben took a deep breath and let it all go; the memories, the heart-ache, and the feeling of desertion the little boy Benjamin had soaked up in this very place so many years ago.

 

"Are you looking for a place for the night?" a male voice suddenly asked behind him. Ben turned and realized that the train had gone while he had been lost in his thoughts of the past.

"I don't know," he answered. "When is the next train?"

"Where are you going to?"

"San Francisco."

"Three days."

Ben sighed.  _Terrific! Three days to sit around in this town. He might just as well borrow a Bible from someone and stay in the train station._       

 

The following three days were some of the hardest Ben had ever passed in his life. Just like a lifetime ago, there was nothing worthwhile in this town to encounter or do, except dealing with old memories which popped up without him being able to do anything about it.

Ben sat in the saloon where Martha had once taken him in. Like everything else the saloon still looked the same but - naturally - none of the former whores were still around, and neither did he spot any familiar faces.

He left and walked to the cemetery hill outside the little town. He tried to find Martha's grave but couldn't. If she was buried there, then her grave was neither marked by a cross nor a stone. Who would bother about putting up a cross for a dead whore, anyway? 

 

The second day Ben borrowed a horse and rode to the Dorsett farm. The old house was no longer there, instead there was a pile of ashes where it had once stood. Further off a new house had been erected, and there were some patches with vegetables nearby.

He entered the old barn where the cows had been and where more than fifty years ago he had taken countless beatings and committed his first murder. The barn itself was empty.Tools, partly broken, lay scattered about. There was no smell of any livestock whatsoever. The barn hadn't been used for years.

As Ben turned to leave his eyes fell upon an axe that leaned beside the door. He picked it up and weighed it in his hand. It was strange, how comfortable and familiar the axe felt in his hand. The handle was slightly split just like it had been fifty years ago... it was the very axe he had used to kill Dorsett.

Wistfully, Ben put the axe back. _What if the axe hadn't been nearby when Dorsett had whipped him? Would he have taken a gun or a knife and killed the many anyway? What if he had simply run away without killing him? He wouldn't have been marked as an outlaw then, would he? - No. Impossible. You couldn't cross the country without a horse, and stealing a horse was an offence punishable by death. The truth was, he had never truly had any other choice. And killing a bastard like Dorsett... had that really been so wrong?_

 

Stepping out into the sunshine, Ben took a deep breath and tried to let go of the memories of this place. _Fifty years. Dorsett dead and long since forgotten. There was no use brooding about the past. It was best to leave it behind._   

"Are you looking for someone?" a voice behind him asked.

Ben turned and beheld a young woman carrying a basket full of vegetables in her hands. She was dirty and sweaty, her face red from too much sun, her blond hair peeking out from under a headscarf.

Ben smiled his most charming smile and tipped the brim of his hat.

"Sorry, Ma'am. I didn't mean to intrude. I... ah... I used to work here... a long time ago." 

"You worked for old Mr. Dorsett?" she asked incredulously.

Ben suddenly shivered hearing the name spoken out loud. _Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea coming here._ Then, he nodded.

"Please come inside and have a coffee," she invited him.

Inside a man, almost as old as himself, was sitting on a chair.

"Who is this, Judith?" he asked the woman.

"Someone who worked for old Mr. Dorsett," she answered.

"Is that so? - Well, must have been long ago."

Ben nodded. "About fifty years."

A gesture invited him to sit. The woman placed a cup of coffee in front of him.

"He could be cantankerous, could old Mr.Dorsett," the man mumbled.

"You knew him?" Ben's eyes were piercing. _Who was this man?_ He didn't recall ever having seen him.    

"My father and he were friends. My father sorted out the house and farm after old Dorsett died. - Never thought I would pity him," he murmured in a way that clearly encouraged his guest to probe further.

"Pity him?" Ben complied. "Why?"

"He was murdered," the man said, "but his own son."

Ben perked up. "What?" _What kind of take had people made up here? He knew that wasn't true! Dorsett hadn't had a son._

"Aye. He had a son. By one of the whores. Grew up in the brothel. When old Dorsett found out about him, he insisted he be brought up properly on his farm. But the boy was bad luck. Had picked up all kinds of bad behaviour from the cat-house, you see. One day the book took an axe and murdered his father in his bed."

_The scene stood vividly before Ben: Himself sitting in the barn, exhausted from work much too hard for a fifteen-year-old. Dorsett finding him there, drunk as usual. The ever-useful horsewhip in Dorsett's hands, biting into his flesh, hurting like Hell. And then the axe within reach..._

"What happened to the boy afterwards? Did they find and hang him?" Ben asked with a hint of sarcasm. _Wasn't the first time folk went along and created their own fairy-tale story. But to hear of himself like this was sickening._

"Nah, the boy stole a horse and left. Wasn't ever seen again. Probably got what he deserved." The words were delivered with gusto. Ben chose to lower his head and stare into his empty cup.

"God will surely have seen to this, Pa," the woman said, filling both their cups with fresh coffee.

Ben looked at her, but, naturally, she hadn't meant him. She had been talking to her father. _So, had God seen to it? Has he gotten what he deserved in life?_ Ben wondered.

"When you worked for old Dorsett, did you know the boy?" the man suddenly asked Ben.

For a moment Ben contemplated telling the truth. _But what use would that be? It would only serve to let them know that he was Dorsett's killer. If everybody in town thought the same way as those two people on the farm, they would hang him. How ironic: coming all the way to meet death  here in this very town. The town of his birth, the town of his childhood..._

"No," Ben was shaking his head, "He must have come after I left."

The old man nodded.

"Fine man, old Jacob Dorsett, my father used to say."

There was no use smashing the old man's belief in a man he had clearly never met. Ben excused himself and said his farewell.

Two days later, he was relieved to board the train towards San Francisco, forever turning his back on the town where his mother had once left him behind.  

 

 

 

 

 


	3. San Francisco

San Francisco.

The closer Ben came, the more he was consumed by a calm serenity. He was looking forward to seeing the ocean again, and he hoped that with all the changes that were bound to have happened to a city as big as San Francisco he would still be able to find the spot where he had once waited for the girl with green eyes...

 

When Ben finally got off the train, he knew that he had come to the right place. The railway station was vibrant with life, and at first the many people were overwhelming for someone who had spent most of his life with nature - either alone or with very few people. Other than in the small train stations along the way, in the railway station of San Francisco all sorts of stalls were established; food and drink were abundant, travel charms for good luck were sold, and all kinds of other wares were extolled to possible buyers. The noise was deafening.

On the opposite platform Ben spotted a mother tearfully saying goodbye to her daughter, a young girl of perhaps fifteen or sixteen. A stern-looking man, supposedly the girl's father, was ushering them along. Then he led the young girl away and helped her get on the waiting train before boarding himself. Bare-footed children ran around, some of them trying to snatch food from the stalls, but the vendors were alert and eyed them all the time.

The excitement Ben felt increased when he shouldered his bag and started walking through the streets. He meant to find a hotel not too far from the ocean, but he was in no hurry, and time and time again he slowed down letting himself become distracted by what he saw.

Harbours and docks were always a cesspool of people - no matter which city you happened to find yourself in. Ben drank in the colourful mix of immigrants that made San Francisco what it was: a bustling city full of promise, full of splendour, but also full of poverty and crime.

By the time he found what he was looking for, it was already late, and so he decided to postpone his walk to the harbour until the next morning.

 

~~~

 

 _Yes. There it was: the huge boulder where he used to wait for her._ Ben recognized it immediately. There had been a lot of changes to the buildings around the place, and there were many more landing banks at the water now, but nobody moved boulders of this size if it could be helped. Rather, the new landings and footbridges had been built around the huge rock that stood almost as tall as he himself was.

Ben walked right up to it. _Had the way really been that steep all these years ago, or had he turned old?_ He smiled at the thought. The place used to be well hidden from the sight of people, it had been an ideal place to meet and to steal a few secret kisses without anybody being able to see.

But not anymore. The city and its docks had expanded beyond his wildest imagination. The former secret place stood apart no longer. When he reached the spot, Ben leaned his forehead against the cold stone and closed his eyes. He could almost hear a high girlish voice call his name...

He had forgotten her name, but he had never forgotten her green eyes. Ben was sure he would recognize those eyes even to this day. Her eyes, and her smile when he had bent over her...

When he finally lifted his head from the stone, he looked different. A smile was playing at the corners of his mouth, and his eyes sparkled. _It had been such a good time. The girl and their kisses. Their love-making... youthful exploration it had been. Adventure. Excitement. Life - right there in front of him, to be reached out for and lived..._

 

Both men and women studied the man who passed them. There was something impressive about him. His white beard and hair didn't seem to fit the youthful step and the sparkle in his eyes.

 

Ben hadn't walked far from the docks when he received a shock he was totally unprepared for.

Perhaps fifty yards in front of him a figure crossed his path that made his blood freeze. _Jenny!_ Ben stopped dead in his tracks. _Could it really be her? The lush figure, the decisive steps..._  

The woman's hair was hidden under a broad hat that also hid her face from his view. Spontaneously, he followed her. _Sooner or later she would turn left or right, then he might be able to see her face._

In the next street the woman approached a little boy who sold flowers at the street corner. _Yes. It was Jenny._ A wave of emotions rushed through him as the memory of three days of passion and a painful good-bye came alive again.

He observed her speaking with the flower boy. Their conversation seemed too long to be just a casual encounter. They spoke for several minutes. The boy smiled and pointed to one of his little bouquets, but Jenny shook her head no. Then Ben observed how her hand combed through the boy's hair. _Yes, they knew each other._

Before Ben could gather his wits, Jenny had turned away from the boy and hailed a Hansom cab, a horse-drawn carriage originally invented in England that had found its way over to the cities of America. She climbed inside, and the carriage moved on.

It came as a shock to Ben. There was no way to follow the Hansom cab, it was too far away for him to reach. Already, it was out of sight. Jogging through the streets to find the cab under a dozen look-alikes was doomed to failure. Ben stood and realized: he had lost her. There was no chance to find out where she was going to or where she lived.

_Unless..._

He walked to the boy selling his flowers at the street corner.

"Hello, boy."

The boy turned, and two bright blue and very intelligent eyes looked at Ben.

"Good morning, sir."

"Do you know the lady you just spoke to? She left in the cab."

"That's Mrs. Carson!" the boy beamed his answer at him.

"Yes, I know," Ben smiled, "Jennifer Carson." He was glad she still went by her name. It indicated she wasn't married.

"Do you know where she lives?" Ben asked. He didn't know it, but his whole body tensed in expectation of the boy's answer.

"Yes, I know," the boy said and Ben relaxed. He smiled at the boy.

"Would you take me there?"

The boy hesitated. "I've got to sell my flowers first."

Ben nodded and took out his wallet. Presenting a shining dollar coin to the boy he said "I'll give you this dollar if you lead me to her house."

The boy swallowed. "A whole dollar?"

Ben nodded. The boy held out his hand and received his pay.

"It's not far," he said and started walking.

 

It took them only a few minutes to arrive at the end of a cosy little street.

"It's the house with the blue door," the boy said, pointing to a small house. Ben knew there was no point in knocking at the door now since Jenny was out. But the house was easy to find again. The boy wanted to turn and leave, but Ben stopped him.

"Does she have a husband? Do you know?"

"No man. But there is a woman there with her."

 _Who might it be?_ Ben wondered. His eyes fell on the boy and his flower basket again. In it were three little bouquets left.

"Which are her favourite flowers?" he asked the boy.

"The peonies." The boy was pointing to a tiny bouquet that didn't hold more than five of the said flowers. Ben smiled.

"Alright. How much is it?"

"75 cents."

"Well, boy, here is another dollar," Ben said and presented the coin to the boy. "What's your name, anyway?"

"Michael, sir." The boy reached into his basket and meant to hand the flowers to Ben who shook his head. He reached into his jacket pocket and took out his sketch book. He tore out a page and scribbled something on it. Then he stuck the paper in the flowers.

"Now you go over there, boy, and deliver the flowers. Just say that you are supposed to give the flowers to the lady of the house. Alright?"

"Yes, sir." The boy trotted over and knocked at the door. After a minute an elderly woman dressed in black opened. _A servant by the look of it,_ Ben thought. For a moment she was confused when the boy handed her the flowers, but then she accepted them. The boy turned and looked at him. Ben smiled and touched the brim of his hat in greeting, and the boy grinned in return. Ben turned and left for his hotel.

 

 

 

 


	4. Knocking on a blue door

He spent the rest of the day in a state of trance. Expectation mixed with dread. _What if he looked her up the next day and she didn't recognize him? Or worse: what if she recognised him, but hated the time they had once spent together?_

_She had come to San Francisco to shed her old personality and become a lady of quality. Her elegant clothes proved that she had succeeded. How might she react to him - the personification of three days of passionate sex in her youth?_

_Her name was still 'Jennifer Carson'. But even if she lived alone, what if there was a man somewhere? Perhaps he should just leave her alone like she had begged him to do that day when she had left him... No! That was impossible. Having seen her again he just had to speak to her, had to find out if she was still who she had been all these years ago._

Ben sighed, becoming unsure of himself.

_Should he really do this? Should he shatter another of those pleasant memories of his past? Leadville and Velvet... his sojourns into the brothels of Dodge City... Bisbee and the saloon girl Emma... and finally the old train station, Dorsett and the memory of his mother... they had all turned stale in the end._

_If he turned away now, he could preserve a memory of passion... of excitement... of love even._

_What to do...?_

It was early afternoon the following day when he finally decided to tempt fate.

 

 

"I am sorry, Sir, but Mrs. Carson is not at home."

The elderly lady - 'Mrs. Wormwood, servant and housekeeper" as he was informed - was eyeing up the man in front of her. _Not a city gentleman, it would seem. His clothes weren't the latest fashion. But definitely not a common man, either. His eyes and voice were those of a man used to giving orders._      

"When do you expect her to be back?" Ben asked, not willing to give up.

"I am sorry, I couldn't say. Mrs. Carson is always taking a walk in the afternoon. She left only half an hour ago. Sometimes she is gone for several hours."

But even this didn't faze the man in front of her.

"Where did she go? Do you know?"

Mrs. Wormwood smiled. "She always goes to the same place: a large boulder from which you can see the ocean. She won't be back for quite some time. There is no use waiti..."

Mrs. Wormwood broke off; the man in front of her had turned and left.

Ben's guts had churned at the woman's words. _The boulder! In their first encounter when he had learned that Jenny was on her way to San Francisco he had told her about the place where he used to wait for the girl with green eyes... that same place where only yesterday morning he had re-visited in memory some of the best weeks of his life..._ He walked along the streets faster and faster, until he was almost running.

 

 

There she stood.

Her hat must have come loose in the wind; she was holding it in her hands. Her hair, once dark brown, was streaked with grey. _So she, too, had aged._

Slowly, he advanced. He longed to see her face. The wind that was blowing made it impossible for her to hear his steps. She kept staring out over the water, wrapped up in thought.

He stopped and waited for her to turn. But she didn't move. Whatever it was she was thinking about, it kept her mesmerized. Ben's patience, for which he was famous, soon wore thin. He was too close to the fulfilment of a dream, and he couldn't wait any longer. Taking one more step towards the woman in front of him he said

"Who are you waiting for, Jennifer Carson?"

At the sound of his voice she turned. His soft smile met her eyes. They were so full of anguish that his smile faded at the sight of them. But then he could see that she had recognized him. She opened her mouth as if to shriek, but uttered no sound.

Ben saw her swaying, and he suddenly realized that she was about to faint. Quickly, he stepped up to her and caught her just in time. Darkness claimed her and she slumped in his arms.

Softly, he lowered her down on the ground, cradling her in his arms. The wind caught her hat where she had dropped it and blew it away. He hoped she wouldn't mind. Then he took a long look, filling his eyes with her sight.

Her face had aged. There were numerous lines in it. But they weren't worry lines. They were around her eyes and in the corners of her mouth. _So her life had not been too harsh._

His heart expanded at her sight; she was still so very beautiful. Her softness, her curves, the smell of her hair...memories kept rushing at hi, memories of days and nights spent in passion but also in laughter.

His fingertips caressed her cheeks, her forehead, her lips. She had been so shocked by his sudden appearance that he wasn't sure what to make of it. _Perhaps she wasn't happy about him being in San Francisco. Perhaps she would ask him to leave..._ Suddenly, he had the feeling that he might not receive the smile he had hoped for once she opened her eyes. _If this were so, he might as well kiss her while she couldn't protest._

Softly he raised her head a bit and lowered his own. When their lips touched he suddenly had to smile; it reminded him of a fairy-tale story he used to read to Lilly a long time ago. In the story the prince was kissing his princess to wake her up and to awaken her to his love - to a new life.

He lowered Jenny down again and looked at her. He was curious what would happen; in the fairy-tale the princess woke up after the kiss.

"Benjamin..." her lips murmured as if in a dream.

"Wake up, Jenny," he said softly.

She nestled into his embrace, not wanting to let go of her dream. He decided he had all the time in the world and just continued holding her and stroking her face. His persistent caress penetrated the protective wall the fainting spell had erected around her.

Someone was stroking her face.

When she opened her eyes, she saw a face she recognised immediately.

"Benjamin..." she whispered, confused. _How could he be solid? How could he look so different, so vibrant and full of life when for twenty-five years his face had been nothing but a comforting dream?_

She rested against his chest, his eyes bore into her, and she felt his breath on her face. _He was real!_ She gave a little shriek, and Ben knew she was fully awake.

With a movement that was both decisive and incredibly tender he gripped her harder and helped her get on her feet.

They stood opposite each other, incapable of speech. His eyes were feasting on her face and form.

She, too, took in every feature of the man in front of her; his white beard and silver hair, the blue-green eyes that were so mocking and intelligent, and still so dominating, his hands that held her arms to support her, and the calloused fingers that were capable of such a soft touch. _What was he doing here?_

"Benjamin..." Her voice mirrored her confusion. Ben's eyes became even softer.

"Not here, Jenny. Let's go back to your place and talk."

A strand of her hair blew over her face, and without thinking about whether or not the gesture might be appropriate in public Ben's hands combed it back behind Jenny's ear and fixed it with one of her hairpins.

Jenny's eyes hadn't left his. Ben held out his arm for her to take, and they linked and walked back to her house in silence.

 

_What a sweet agony! The man who had never left her thoughts was finally walking beside her. But was he still the same man? What was he doing here? And how had he found her?_

Jenny was glad for his arm during their walk. Her steps weren't too certain and she still felt dizzy - perhaps because of the fainting spell, but it might also have to do with the presence of this particular man whose gaze and touch set her on fire. They had done so twenty-five years ago, and they seemed to do so now, only stronger.

 

_She was so silent. What if she wasn't happy with his sudden emergence? Her fainting at his sight - was it because she was overwhelmed? Or was it because his presence was inconvenient? Inconvenient and unwanted?_

When they reached Jenny's home, Mrs. Wormwood welcomed them with a cup of tea and a freshly baked cake she had freshly baked. Jenny and Ben settled at the small dining table.

 

Ben's eyes swiped the interior of Jenny's home; this was a place where a single woman lived. There was no sign of a man or children - or any other companions. Not even the tiny round dining table allowed for much company. Three chairs at the most could be accommodated around it. It rather reminded Ben of the small table back in the hotel they had once used for a very special game of Poker...

"Benjamin..." He could hear in her voice that she was still stunned by the fact that he was sitting in front of her, and he gave her his best smile.

"Sorry if I shocked you, Jenny. But your good lady here," he flashed his smile at Mrs. Wormwood who had brought the cake and was now cutting it, "she told me where to find you. And since I knew the place," - this was delivered with a sly smile in Jenny's direction - "I thought I might surprise you."

Her smile was back. Ben breathed a sigh of relief.

 _Wasn't it typical of the man? Smiling at Mrs. Wormwood and charming her while at the same time hinting to her, Jenny, at their time together and the moment when he had told her of the place?_ Jenny couldn't help smiling at his words.   

With the artistry and effortless grace that Ben remembered and that he had loved about her Jenny thanked Mrs. Wormwood and poured the tea for them both herself.

"So... tell me, what brings you to San Francisco, Benjamin?" Jenny asked, opening their conversation.

Ben hesitated with his answer. He had all but forgotten the initial reason for his long journey, and for a moment he didn't know what to say. Then he smiled, a smile somewhat wistful and melancholic.

"I am trying to find my youth."

Astonished, Jenny looked at him, and it occurred to him at this particular moment that what he had been looking for was right there in front of him, and that by finding Jenny he had found a time of his past that, although it had been painful at the time, was one of the best memories he had ever had to hold onto. As a matter of fact, Jenny's love represented the sweetest part of his past that he could remember.

 

_He was looking for his youth. Oh, she remembered only too well what he had looked like then; the strong, virile, rough, exciting, passionate, and charming man she had met while being laid up for three days in a small town at the southern end of Nevada._

Ben saw her look at him with a sincere and straightforward gaze. _He knew this woman, remembered the way she could be, remembered her openness. There was no need for pretence with her!_

"I have been travelling to the places that have been important to me once. Leadville and Dodge City. Bisbee..." Ben elaborated. "I am not sure what I was looking for, but I guess I haven't found it," he concluded with a shrug of his shoulders.

Jenny rose and walked to a little cabinet. She took out a bottle of whisky and a glass, both of which she placed beside Ben's cup of tea. It earned her a soft smile.

"You have been trying to make sense of your life," she said calmly and sat down again.

 _Yes,_ Ben mused. _She had hit the nail straight on the head. It hadn't been so much about memories of the past, but more about how all these parts of his past might add up to something meaningful._

"Well," he voiced his thoughts, "so far my life doesn't seem to add up to much."

"I can't believe this," she retorted, her voice soft. "Tell me about your life."

 

 

 

 

 


	5. Trying to make sense of a life

Ben talked for hours. Mrs. Wormwood had long since gone home, and whisky had replaced Ben's tea while Jenny was drinking wine.

Ben told Jenny how the ranch that she had once visited in its early stages had developed into a fine horse ranch, his animals amongst the finest you could find in the whole country - only to be almost throttled to death by a long drought. He told her about the set-backs and the successes.

Jenny sat opposite him and listened without a word. She smiled when he spoke of his favourite horses, and she frowned when he recalled the hardships he had faced.

When he told her about Tommy and Rachel she kept quiet, her eyes cast down. When he confessed that life with Rachel had not turned out to be what he had hoped for, she was torn between the pain she felt for him and a sudden joy that seized her. _Why would she rejoice in his pain?_ It confused her.

She reached for her wine bottle, but it was empty. It irritated and astonished her further.

"How can this be empty already?"

"Why not?"

She looked up and beheld Ben's amused gaze on her.

"I never drink more than a single glass," she tried to justify herself.

"Never?"

"No." She shook her head. "The last time was in..." _In a small place in Nevada..._

She fell silent as if having confessed too much. Ben waited patiently for her to continue. She didn't look up when she said quietly

"I never get drunk. I never lose control. The last time I did drink as much as a whole bottle, I was in a small town in Nevada, in the company of a man. We were playing a game of Poker in a hotel room."

Ben waited for her to lift her eyes to his, but she never dared to look at him after her confession. _Was she ashamed of the past?_

"That was the best fame of Poker I ever played in my entire life," Ben said softly. All that time she had been sitting so still, just uttering a syllable here and there, quite contrary to the vivacious woman he remembered. He felt as if she was miles away from him.

At his words she rose and excused herself. She walked up the stairs to her bedroom. Ben heard her come back a moment later and turned to watch her, admiring her straight and graceful walk as she descended the stairs, a small parcel in her hands.

She placed the parcel on the table in front of him, then sat down on her chair again, nodding at him to inspect it. The parcel was wrapped in cloth and tied with a silk ribbon. He picked it up and opened it. In it was a deck of cards. It was used, and Ben recognised it immediately; it was twenty-five years old, and it had been used for a very special game of Poker once.

He looked at the cards, browsing through them, picking five cards: three queens, and the Ten and Jack of Spades. He looked at the chosen cards wistfully, especially the Queen of Hearts.

"I never played another game of Poker after," she said so quietly he almost didn't hear her.

 

Fetching the cards had helped mask her confusion, but she wasn't strong enough to discuss those three days with him. _And he wasn't really done telling her about his life yet, was he?_

"Tell me about your family, Benjamin," she said, "tell me about your children."

Ben complied, telling her about Rachel's early death and the years when he had raised Tommy and Lilly all by himself, the years he kept looking for a woman to share their lives, but never quite succeeded.

 

Another hour later, Ben's tale had reached the present and he was telling Jenny of his family as it was now. Of Lilly, the love of his life, all grown up and established with her own family. Of how this was one of his best achievements in life; to know that his daughter had found a true love and was happy.

"What about you, Benjamin? Did you find love?" Jenny finally asked. Her voice was only a whisper. During his tale he had mentioned some women, but he hadn't spoken of his emotional involvement. She dreaded his answer, but she _had_ to know.

"Yes," he said quietly, and the tears that had filled Jenny's eyes spilled over.

"That's good," she whispered.

"It didn't last," Ben continued, "we only had a few months together, Mattie and I. She died of measles."

There was still some pain in his voice, she could hear it. The searching look that he gave her now made her nervous. _Let him not ask too much. Let him not find out that..._

Quickly, she rose from her chair and occupied herself with lighting the lamps. It was growing dark outside. Ben could see that she was avoiding him, avoiding the question that hung in the air, and that he must ask; _had she found love herself? - Perhaps she had and she wanted to avoid having to admit it. But he had to know. She was so beautiful, so sophisticated. It was impossible that there should be nobody to court and to love her._

He rose and walked up behind her.

"What about you, Jenny?"

She didn't turn, didn't want to face him. Instead she hung her head. _How to answer his question? For twenty-five years he had filled her dreams, had been the man she had conjured up in her imagination when she had pleasured herself. In all the years that she had spent in San Francisco, she had had to live with only one regret; the regret that her past in St. Louis had made it impossible for her to stay on a ranch in Nevada with the man she loved.  _

 

The truth was this: as the years had gone by, she had not truly changed. She was still the woman she had been when she had left St. Louis. Her activities in society, her charity work, her contacts to the city mayor, to lawyers and other assorted personalities merely served to distract her from the pain of loss she had never been able to overcome; they had not managed to fill her and give her life purpose.

_How could she confess this to him? They had no chance, did they? There was nothing to bridge the gap between the rancher and family man Benjamin Warner from Nevada and the single society woman Jennifer Carson from San Francisco... they were worlds apart._

She fervently wished time hadn't moved on, and that they were still in the hotel room in Indian Springs. She had never really moved away from this. Voicing her thoughts she said

"I am still the same."

 

_Now, what was that supposed to mean?_ Ben wondered. _Did she mean to say that she was still single and unattached? Or was it a hint that her feelings hadn't changed? Did she express hope that they might have a chance to explore again what was one of the best memories of his life?_

He didn't dare draw this conclusion just yet. Three days was hardly enough to read a person that well. But whatever it was she meant, Ben knew that he wanted to explore the feeling of familiarity and peace that had been growing while he had talked to her. _Her hair smelled so wonderful, and it looked so soft. Her neck was so white._ He almost touched it with his hand. More than anything he wished for a chance to know her again, to touch her and be touched back.

But then he remembered that she had listened without speaking about herself. _Perhaps she didn't want him to know about herself and her life. Perhaps his tale had proved to her that, humble rancher that he was, he could not be a part of her life. Perhaps it was best to let sleeping dogs lie..._

The clock struck nine, and Ben took a step back.

"It's late," he said. "I should be walking back to my hotel."

Dutifully, Jenny walked him to the door. Silently - everything had been said, hadn't it? - Ben put on his hat. His throat was dry and he couldn't bring himself to speak. 

_He should say something to her - anything. An invitation to have dinner, or to go out for a walk... anything that guaranteed he could see her again. Why was he incapable of saying a word?_

He turned and reached for the doorknob.

_He was about to leave. She couldn't let him go. If he left now, how could she make sure to ever see him again? He might leave San Francisco and never return._

The mere thought crushed her. She knew she wasn't able any longer to do what she had done before, wasn't strong enough to conjure up his image for the rest of her life.

"Benjamin..."

Her voice was quivering. When he turned back to her, it was with hope in his eyes.

"Please don't leave me alone tonight..."

The smile that emerged at her words had barely time to settle on his lips when they already devoured each other in a firm embrace and a passionate kiss. Their bodies shook with the relief of finally touching the other, and their hands didn't know where to stroke first, where to caress, where to grip.

"The bed... upstairs, Benjamin," he could hear her murmur between kisses. He smiled.

"That's what you said then..."

"You would have taken me at the table otherwise," she reminded him with a nod towards the dinner table nearby, and they both laughed at the irony of it.

Hand in hand, they climbed the stairs to her bedroom.

 

 

 

 


	6. Love reaffirmed

When Ben stood in the doorframe, he hesitated. He could see it was a room that was entirely hers, utterly feminine.

Bright pastel colours gave the room a feeling of freshness and calm. There was a small vanity in the corner. It was full of all the little utensils women needed to pretty up. His gaze swept over it, and for a moment he was reminded of Mattie and the time when her belongings in his bedroom had attested to her presence in his life. A soft smile crossed his face, then his eyes searched for Jenny.

She stood beside the bed, her hand resting on one of the bed posts. Her mood was all changed.

"Benjamin... I... I must tell you something first."

_She sounded mighty unsure of herself._ Ben wondered what it could possibly be. His hand reached out to comb one of her strands out of her face - her hair had come somewhat loose after that kiss downstairs. She looked delicious, but Ben restrained himself and remained serious.

"Tell me what?"

"About me..." Jenny started, but wasn't sure how to continue. She took a deep breath. "About my past... Benjamin... I was a whore." _There. She had finally gotten it off her chest._

Ben smiled. "I always knew this, Jenny," he said.

She didn't believe him. Open-mouthed she stared at him.

"You knew?"

He nodded. "Wells... remember him?"

Harcourt Wells - the man in Indian Springs who had held the power to expose her. Wells - the man who had known her from the brothel in St. Louis. Wells - the reason why she had left Benjamin.

When she nodded, he continued "He told me about you the moment you had left in that coach. I always knew," he repeated.

"I didn't want you to know. I wanted you to remember me as a lady."

"It wouldn't have mattered to me, Jenny," he said.

Jenny cocked her head. He could see that she didn't quite believe him. And he understood her doubts. _From another man it might have been just lip service, but he had been an outlaw. He knew what obstacles lay in the way of becoming a respected member of society._

"Jenny..." He placed his hands softly on her shoulders. His thumbs pressed in just enough so she would look up at him.

"Before we met... before I bought my ranch... I was an outlaw. I robbed the railroad and killed people." _It was all so long ago... could it still matter?_ "Believe me, Jenny, if you had told me there and then, it wouldn't have mattered. But I knew it mattered to you. You wanted to find a new life, a better life. That's why I let you go."

It all took some time to register, Ben could see it. When it did, Jenny turned away from him abruptly. Ben's heart sank. _Could it be that he had misjudged her? That she would reject him for something that he had completely left behind?_ He saw her hands come up; she buried her face in them. _Perhaps he should fetch his hat and leave..._

 

_She had left Indian Springs because she couldn't face the thought of him knowing about her past. And now he told her that he had known all the time. He had let her go because he wanted her to have San Francisco. There had been no need for her to go, no need to leave the only man she had ever truly loved in her whole life. Twenty-five years gone... lost, because she wouldn't face up to the truth. It hadn't been bad luck to lose him as she had told herself all these years. It had been her own fault!_

The feeling sickened her for a moment, but then she felt him move behind her. _He was moving away from her. No! He mustn't! He was still the same, wasn't he; Benjamin Warner. Did it matter that he had been an outlaw once? Why should that matter to her?_

Then another thought occurred to her.

"The game..." Jenny whispered. "When we played that game... it wasn't a game, it was _real_."

_'The outlaw and the whore',_ Ben remembered. _The game they had played back then. Was she right? Was that really the only thing they knew to be?_

"No," Ben said, "it wasn't real. But it was something we both knew only too well and wanted to leave behind."

Jenny turned and looked into those blue-green eyes she had conjured up each time she had been looking at the ocean. _She remembered those eyes, remembered the man in front of her. It wasn't necessary to know every single thing about a man to love him, was it?_

"And did you leave it behind?" she asked him.

"Yes, Jenny. Same as you have."

This time it was Jenny who approached. She raised her hand and touched his cheek, stroking softly and sensuously over his beard. Then her fingers traced his lips. While she experienced him anew, he marvelled at her soft touch. It was so caring and tender, it could almost be called motherly. Again and again her hand ran over his face, his forehead and temple, his cheek and chin; occasionally touching his shirt at his neck, making him wish she would want to get rid of it.

But she wasn't in this mood. Not yet. Her look was dreamy, her thoughts far away - as if she wasn't in the moment with him. Almost... as if she was trying to imprint the feeling of his skin on her fingers forever...

When she combed his wavy hair out of his face, it became too much for him. He bent his head so that their foreheads touched, and he closed his eyes, breathing deeply.

Slowly her arms came around his neck and she stepped closer, embracing him. Now that her body finally touched his, he dared put his arms around her; one around her waist, the other moving up along her back and into her hair. He turned his head and buried his face in it while her hands continued to stroke his hair and neck. With their embrace a deep calm settled in his bones. They stood silently, drinking in each other's presence.

 

"It's been _so long,_ Jenny," he finally said, voicing aloud the feeling of homecoming that had overcome his whole being. His hand ran softly over her back and hips, measuring her contours, re-acquainting himself with her form, a longing in his fingers to squeeze, and the wish to bury himself in her...

She gave a little whimper, almost like a mewling at his touch and pressed her body closer to his.

"You still feel the same," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. Her face was hidden at his neck and throat. He could feel her smile at his words.

"You still smell the same," he then said, burrowing his nose further into her hair. His mouth was at her ear when he whispered

"Do you still _taste_ the same?"

She shivered in his embrace, and he smiled at the easy victory. His hand at her back began to open the laces of her dress and he could feel her smile wider. She gave his throat a soft kiss, then changed on a dime and attacked it with a wet kiss and a hard suckle.

The onslaught was so sudden, it made him stop what he was doing, and he gripped her hard, a moan escaping his lips. At that she laughed, and he laughed in answer to her laugh. _What a woman! No other woman had ever been like her..._

They looked at each other.

"Let's get you out of these clothes," he said.

She raised her eyebrows in astonishment.

"Only me?"

He laughed again. _Yes, that was his Jenny. Laughter had been as much a part of their love-making as passion. But it wasn't the time for passion. Not yet._

 

He moved behind her and opened the laces of her dress and then her bodice. She peeled herself out of her clothes while he watched her. In answer to his gaze she defiantly looked at him; raised her chin, and then turned her back to him to rid herself of her pantaloons.

He smiled at the tease. The scene when he had turned his back to her and taken off his long johns during their Poker game stood vividly before his inner eye. _And, yes, it was working._ He felt his blood warm.

When she turned back to face him, she only wore her stockings. With a provocative smile she sat down on the bed to unroll them... when he stepped in and stopped her.

Kneeling down in front of her, his hands moved up along her leg until they reached her garter. He pulled it down and with a smirk that could not be repressed he smelled it, his gaze never leaving hers.

Jenny held out her hand and he handed the garter over. They entwined fingers, the garter crushed between them. His other hand touched her thigh and moved down to stroke her calf. At that she smiled.

It was a soft smile, a smile full of memories, devoid of lewdness.

He rested his temple against her knee and closed his eyes, drinking in the moment, resting. Her knee was warm, her hand was small in his, she was... _just there._

Her other hand stroked his hair. It was almost completely white now, but it was still as soft as she remembered. Seeing him kneel there in front of her, feeling his hand softly caress her calf as he had done all those years ago, made her feel as if she had completed a circle and was now at a new beginning. The past twenty-five years were erased, she was still in a hotel room in Indian Springs, and in front of her knelt a man so overwhelmingly dear to her she couldn't grasp it all. Although she wished nothing more than for him to hold her, she didn't feel like advancing anything.

_There was no hurry now. Everything was perfect. He was here, her soul could stop searching and rest now._

Ben looked at her. _She was still so beautiful!_ For a moment he hesitated, not knowing how he should proceed. Then he stilled the hand that was stroking his hair, turned his head and kissed per palm. She bent closer to him and he, still on his knees in front of her, rose to meet her lips.

 

Their kiss was tender, giving. Neither of them was willing to sacrifice the feeling of peace and safety they felt in each other's presence for a feeling of passion.

After their soft kiss, Ben rose and undressed. 

_He was still so beautiful, so masculine!_ For a moment Jenny felt jealous of every single woman Ben had mentioned in his tales. _When she had left him, she hadn't just lost the man she loved. She had also lost the opportunity to watch that man turn from the forty-year-old he had been into the sixty-five-year-old man he was now. - No! She wouldn't think about this any longer. He was here now. He was hers. And she could finally give herself to him again..._

 

She let herself sink back until she lay across the bed. Her legs were dangling from the bedside, and the had closed her eyes, waiting for his touch.

He took his time looking at her. Her body was lush and beautiful, her skin white as befitted a lady who didn't expose herself to the sun. There was a small mole on one of her breasts. _Had it been there years ago?_ \- He couldn't remember.

Her softly rounded belly reminded him of the 'Song of Solomon" and the quote 'a heap of wheat' for him to feast on. A smile graced his lips as the thought passed through him. Her hair looked _so soft._ Now that it was streaked with grey, it seemed even more beautiful than he remembered. It was sprawled beside her all over the white linen of the bed.

She could hear him move. As she opened her eyes she saw him bent over her, not sure where and how to touch first.

She was in no hurry. Instead, she was wondering what he would do first; a soft kiss on her breast perhaps, or her neck... He was looking at her hair; perhaps he would touch her hair first...

Her whole body relaxed under his gaze. _She trusted him._ It made him strangely proud. His eyes roamed over her body, and suddenly a vicious smile crept into his face. He bent forward decisively and kissed between her legs.

 

Jenny cried out - she just couldn't help it. She had been completely relaxed, in a somewhat soft, tender, romantic mood, awaiting a first soft touch... and he had kissed her lovebud!

But immediately after - seeing his smug look - she burst into laughter. _Oh yes, she remembered him like this; unpredictable, surprising, even dangerous - just enough to never feel certain what was about to happen next. How wonderful that age hadn't made him change!_

Both of them laughed at his move, happy about how comfortable they still were with each other. Then Ben got serious again.

Jenny just relaxed under his touch and let him do whatever he wanted. She wasn't capable of guidance or request, she just wanted to feel... and everything he did was more than welcome!

 

Ben was in a universe of smell and taste and touch... _Yes, it was Jenny. It was her smell and taste. Familiar, and yet new. It was... intoxicating._

Just like that very first time in the hotel room in Indian Springs, he explored every bit of her, remembering what she had loved then and doing it. He smiled at her moans; obviously he was getting it right.

_How he loved touching and tasting her again!_

And he couldn't get enough, could have gone on exploring and pleasuring her forever. But after a few short minutes, she wasn't able to stay still any longer. Her hands gripped his shoulders.

"Please, make love to me, Benjamin," she panted.

Slowly, he entered her. She urged him on, but he took his time. He was just fully sheathed and had begun thrusting when she moaned and he felt her squeeze.

Just like during their first time twenty-five years ago, she clung to him in her moment or release, sighing his name in his ear. _The only woman who had ever called him by his full name, 'Benjamin'._ He felt tears prick him, and he quickly closed his eyes to control them.

She still gripped him, her breathing irregular. He stopped to let her rest, planting soft kisses on her neck and shoulder while his fingers softly stroked every part of her body within reach. But then he felt her move her hips.

_He hadn't come yet._ Jenny felt acutely how tender and giving he was. Although in their youth their love-making had been more passion-oriented, he had always stroked and kissed her. _He hadn't changed. - Of course not. Why would he?_

She raised her hips and increased her rhythm. She meant to use all her knowledge to make this good for him, to give him a release he would remember all his life...

But Ben was sixty-five now, and he needed much longer and a lot more stimulation to find his release than in his youth. Also, his mind wasn't set on coming yet. He was in no hurry. His eyes were still busy drinking her in, his mind was still fusing the present moment with the past ones. Savouring every thrust into this beautiful woman's body, his hands kept stroking and squeezing her. Occasionally, they wandered below, teasing her clit.

Jenny was lost to his expertise.

Driving her higher and higher, enjoying her moans and the way she reacted to him along her way to ecstasy, he finally felt his need rise and become urgent.

But he could feel that Jenny was already beyond caring, and when she called out his name and clung to him again, he let go, feeling as though he was pouring his very soul into her.

Exhausted, he sank down. More than the physical exertion it was the emotional upheaval that day had brought that fatigued him. _He couldn't lie on her like that; he would crush her._

Carefully, he tried to move aside.

"Don't go, Benjamin, please," she whispered.

"I'm getting too heavy."

"No."

His mouth smiled at her breast, then - viciously - he shifted and put his body weight on her, squeezing her. She gave a helpless cry, and he laughed.

"See?" he said smugly. He rolled off her, bringing her with him, and she nestled alongside him, her head and hand on his chest, her leg across his thighs.

Within a minute they were both fast asleep.

 

 

 

 


	7. A dream turned into reality

Ben woke before sunrise. His sleep had been deep and restful. He moved slightly; his whole body felt different... relaxed, stronger than before, _younger._

_Jenny. Warm, soft, loveable woman..._ He closed his eyes again and took in her smell, marvelling at the coincidence of having found her again. Last night their love-making had opened a door in him that had been closed since Mattie, a door he had passed through for the first time the very day he had met Jenny in Indian Springs...a door entitled 'love'.

_Yes,_ he mused. _They had found it all over again; that special feeling that came with the knowledge of the other and of oneself._

A Bible quote rang in his head: 'Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave onto his wife, and they shall be one flesh.'

_It was true; they had become one flesh. But not only flesh. It had been so much more. And it would be easy to leave everything behind for this feeling. To stay with her, if she wanted him to._

He snuggled up to her and started nuzzling her neck, shaping his whole body around her; spooning. Still asleep, she moved closer to him. He slowly ran his hand over her body from her shoulder down to her thigh, tracing her curves; revelling in the softness of that lush body that was even more beautiful now than it had been years ago. Jenny moaned softly and she snuggled even further into him.

His mouth moved to her shoulder and her collarbone. "Benjamin," she whispered. A smile appeared on his lips. _She was still asleep, but she knew who he was._

As she tried to snuggle even closer, he gave way so that there was no resistance and she would come to lie on her back. Then he bent over her and kissed all over her face.

"Don't leave me, Benjamin," she mumbled in her sleep, and Ben realized that she wasn't on the brink of waking; she was still fast asleep, caught in a dream. A dream about him!

He adjusted the blanket and moved over her so he could support himself with his elbows and side and continued to run his hands and lips over her face, neck and shoulders, pausing every-so-often to observe her. She sighed - and smiled. Her anxiety was gone. He softly kissed her while his hand roamed along her naked body. _Perhaps he could shift her mood yet again and warm her blood._

A predatory smile settled on his face, anticipation ran through his veins. His hand snaked along the inside of her thigh... when, all of a sudden, she woke with a start.

"Don't go away!" she cried out.

For a moment her fear was reflected in her eyes, and Ben waited for her to recognise him. But when she did, the look that settled on her face was not the look of love that Ben had expected.

Her eyes filled with tears and her lips whispered "You are really here? It wasn't a dream about you? Our love... last night _was real?"_

It was too much for her. Her eyes spilled over and her tears ran along her cheeks into the pillow. She didn't make a sound. Her breathing was shallow; it was as if she didn't dare take a deep breath for fear it would break her apart.

The sight of her silent tears was too much for him, and he hugged her with his whole body, resting his face on her neck. She pressed her face towards his to intensify their contact.

He felt her tears running along her cheek and into his beard, and he suddenly understood the meaning behind her words; that ever since they had separated Jenny had pined for him; that there had been nobody else in her life in all this time. Nobody to laugh with her, nobody for her to confide in, nobody to hold her against life's perils and keep her safe.

And with this her daily sojourns to look over the ocean took on a different significance, too. _It hadn't been because she loved the ocean. It had been to conjure up his image, to gain whatever strength she could get from her memories._

As Jenny's tears kept running into his beard, Ben held her fast and fought tears of his own. _While he had had his life and his kids, Jenny had been alone! - How to make up for twenty-five years of dreams instead of reality?_

 

When he felt she had calmed down, he resumed his former caressing and stroking, nuzzling and kissing. This rime she responded to him.

He lifted his head and looked into her eyes.

"I am real, Jenny. I'm gonna prove it to you."

She smiled at him and her hand stroked his wet beard. _Those beautiful blue-green eyes... softening now under her touch... darkening a shade... their look of love now tinged with a look of passion, changing this way simply because of her touch... what a wonderful and empowering feeling that was..._

His hand was running along her belly; it was a touch so feather-soft, she felt both excited and tickled. She bucked under his touch; just like last night her body remembered him...

 

Afterwards they lay in each other's arms. Jenny was stroking his beard softly when they heard a sudden knock at the door downstairs.

"What time is it?" Jenny was startled.

"Don't know," Ben answered lazily.

"That's Mrs. Wormwood!" Jenny exclaimed, scrambling out of his arms and rolling out of bed. Then she fetched her robe and meant to go downstairs.

"Jenny...?"

"What?"

He smiled and nodded towards the sash that was lying on the floor.

"You should tie the robe, don't you think?"

Embarrassed, Jenny picked up the sash. Then she raised her chin and triumphantly tied her robe. Looking at him haughtily, she turned on her heels.

He laughed at her play-acting and could hear her pearly laughter answer his own like an echo as she ran downstairs to open the door.

_Well, with the way she looked and smelled she would never convince Mrs. Wormwood that she had been sleeping alone._ Ben decided to get up and get dressed, too.

A few minutes later - Jenny was talking with Mrs. Wormwood - he came down the stairs. Mrs. Wormwood shot him an interested and somewhat amused look.

"Morning, Ma'am," he greeted her.

Jenny blushed fiercely, but Mrs. Wormwood greeted him without embarrassment.

"Good morning, sir."

"Well... I'll get dressed," Jenny said and walked towards the stairs, but Ben caught her and ravished her mouth in a passionate kiss. When they parted she smiled and ran her hand through his hair. _He was right. Why shouldn't Mrs. Wormwood know about their love? She, Jenny, was an independent woman and could do as she pleased, and anyway, Mrs. Wormwood had been with her for many years. She was more friend than servant._ Still smiling she walked up the stairs.

When Jenny arrived in her bedroom, the bed had been made and there were five cards proudly displayed on it; three queens and the Ten and Jack of Spades... a winning hand.

 

 

Ben followed Mrs. Wormwood into the kitchen.

"Any chance for a cup of coffee?" he asked.

The good lady laughed.

"Would you like breakfast, Mr. Warner?" she asked.

"Hmm... sounds good, Ma'am. You know, it seems to me a man needs to keep up his strength around here," he added with a wink, and Mrs. Wormwood laughed.

She sized him up quite openly before smiling warmly.

"Something tells me you are like my William was and would like a hearty breakfast with lots of eggs and bacon and meat. You make yourself comfortable out there in the dining corner, and I'll prepare you a good meal."

 

~~~

 

Later that day Ben and Jenny strolled through San Francisco. Jenny meant to introduce him to the life she led; she wanted to collect a dress that had been altered for her, and she wanted to show him the shops and restaurants she frequented and the people she knew.

"Mrs. Carson!" A man's voice made them turn their heads.

Ben made a quick appraisal of the man. He was in his fifties, tall, and elegantly-dressed. The man personified money and the wealth Ben saw established in the buildings and with people all around him.

"Mr. Henderson!" Jenny was honestly happy to see the man. And this man, Henderson, took off his hat and kissed Jenny's hand with a genuine smile. _Who was he, and what was he to her?_ Ben wondered.

"Benjamin, this is Mr. Henderson, manager of the 'Wells Fargo Bank'. He is the one I entrust my money to."

Ben's smile was still cautious. He tilted his head in greeting and the tip of his finger touched the brim of his hat.

Henderson was too jovial to accept such reticence. He held out his hand for a shake.

"A pleasure, sir."

Ben took his hand, shook it and relaxed. The man was genuine. And he wasn't a threat. He could see it in Jenny's behaviour. They were acquaintances, not lovers.

"Wade," he answered. "Ben Wade."

The man opposite him frowned.

" _'Wade'_?" He seemed to remember this name. Jenny held her breath.

"You are not a banker, sir, are you?"

"No." Ben laughed at the very idea. _Ben Wade taking care of other people's money..._

"I'm sure I've heard your name before. But I am at a loss..."

"I own a ranch in Nevada," Ben said.

Henderson shook his head.

"No, no. Not Nevada. San Francisco. Have you ever been to San Francisco before?"

Slowly, Ben nodded. "Yes, but that was about forty years ago when I was a young man. And not for very long either."

Again, Henderson shook his head.

"No, then it can't be you. Still... your name... reminds me of something."

For a moment Henderson was lost in thought, and both Jenny and Ben held their breaths. _Ben Wade had made his name in Arizona decades ago. Was it possible that his 'fame' had spread as far as California?_

But then Henderson shook off whatever he had been mulling about.

"Oh well..." he said and turned to Jenny. "Mrs. Carson, please bring Mr. Wade to our dinner next Saturday. Both the Mayor and Mr. McDonald will be there. I am sure it will be interesting for him to make their acquaintance. - Will you join us, sir?"

Jenny hesitated; she didn't know if Ben wanted to be introduced to society. It was, after all, a risk for him to meet too many people.

Ben took her hand in his and squeezed it slightly to make her look at him.

"Would you like me to come?" he asked softly.

In his eyes she could read a wish to be at her side, a yearning to belong. To belong _to her._

She smiled at him and nodded.

"We are honoured, Mr. Henderson," Jenny said.

"We'll expect you at eight."

Henderson replaced his hat, and with a formal bow at them he left.

 

"'Wade', Benjamin?" Jenny asked softly when they were out of earshot.

"No more hiding, Jenny, no more running. I'm done with that," Ben answered. "If they don't accept who we are, then they can go to hell."

Tears formed in her eyes. _He was right. No more hiding._

 

 

 

 

 


	8. Life in San Francisco

After her shopping, Jenny accompanied Ben to his hotel. He wanted to wash and change. When they entered his room, she saw that he hadn't unpacked his bag yet.

She placed her small hand on his big one to stop him.

"Don't unpack," she said.

"Why not?"

"At least not here."

They held each others' eyes - a whole world of longing between them. Ben caressed her cheek with his knuckles.

"You got space for an ex-outlaw in your bed?" he inquired with a soft smile.

"In my bed and in my life," Jenny answered seriously.

 

 

After their long separation and their miraculous reunion for a short while life and bed were the same thing. They made love- and rested. They made love again - and talked.

"What are you thinking about, Jenny?" Ben asked when he saw her deeply in thought.

She sighed.

"I was thinking about what you said when we met Mr. Henderson; no more hiding. It's dangerous for you, isn't it, Benjamin?"

"Not really," Ben said. "Ben Wade has been gone for more than twenty-five years. Everybody who has heard of him must believe he is dead. Notorious outlaws have a habit of dying young. The only danger is running into someone who has known me so well that they recognize me. But who could that be? And here in San Francisco? It's not likely, Jenny."

"Did they ever find out about you back in Indian Springs?" she asked.

"Yes."

"What happened?"

"Someone who knew me brought in the law, and the Sheriff fetched me into town. Lilly came with me."

Jenny snuggled up, silently waiting for him to continue.

"When we rode into town, there was a marshal there, and Butterfield."

"'Butterfield'?"

"Grayson Butterfield. He owns the railroad I been robbing."

Jenny had stiffened for a moment. Ben couldn't see the smile on her lips that had followed the initial shock of hearing his words.

For a long moment Ben stayed silent, trying to get his swirling emotions under control. He had talked to Lilly about his past, but he had never told anybody what his exposure to the whole town had felt like - and what it had meant for him to find out that - for once in his life - there were, indeed, people who held him in esteem, who spoke up for him when he needed it.

He swallowed several times to get rid of the lump in his throat.

"The townspeople decided that I deserved a chance... they sent the marshal on his way. No," he corrected himself, "that's not true. Not only them. Butterfield, too. He spoke up. Said he didn't want my hide any longer."

His breathing had grown harsher. Ben was trapped in his memory, trying to grasp and speak what he had felt so strongly but never voiced.

Jenny didn't dare to move. Her hand lay on his chest, and she could feel his heart hammering wildly. His words, though spoken softly, came slower than usual. They were laboured, and she could feel how raw he was, how close she had suddenly and quite unexpectedly come to see the very core of this man.

"I never understood why Butterfield did that." Ben spoke quietly, almost as if the words were meant for himself only. "He'd been after me for years because I'd been robbing his company. He hired a posse to take me to Contention once - he even accompanied the posse himself."

Ben shifted; hugging Jenny to himself with both arms, and she understood; wrapping herself around him like a warm blanket. Her head was on his chest, and his words vibrated through her as he spoke.

"It was a two days' ride through the desert, and for a fancy gentleman like Butterfield it wasn't easy facing the cold at night, facing Indians shooting at us, facing death..."

_Tucker first, then McElroy. Ben remembered how their deaths had shocked Butterfield. And yet, the man had stood his ground. Silently and uncomplainingly he had come all the way. Only in the end, when the odds against him had been too great to survive, he had given in. But it hadn't been cowardice._

Ben knew why Butterfield had finally caved in; he had seen Butterfield's devotion to his wife when he had visited Tommy in Chicago. But only now that he held Jenny in his arms could he fully comprehend how easy it had been for Butterfield to place his family over his money and his company, even over the revenge against his enemy Ben Wade...

_And after Dan's death, Butterfield had honoured the promise he had made, had paid the 1,000 dollars to Dan's family. He was a rare man, indeed._

"He is an honourable man, is Butterfield," Ben summed up his thoughts, not knowing the resolve his words triggered in Jenny.

 

~~~

 

 _Why was it that women needed hours to get dressed and make themselves up?_ Ben was downstairs waiting for Jenny. Bored he browsed through the books on her bookshelf. _There it was! 'Uncle Tom's Cabin'._

Ben took it from the shelf and opened it at random reading a passage. Once upon a time he had read the book to Tommy and Rachel. But he had originally bought it because Jenny had recommended it, told him about it during their very first dinner together in the hotel restaurant in Indian Springs.

Again he marvelled at how much these three short days - and nights - had changed him. Unknowingly changed him. And he realized that without Jenny he might not have been ready to have Rachel and Tommy on his ranch. But through her he had become aware of the fact that something essential had been missing in his life.

Wistfully, Ben stared in front of himself. _He hadn't found with Rachel what he had been looking for. She hadn't been the woman suitable to live with a man like him. Now, Jenny..._

He smiled, thinking of Jenny and their everyday life here in San Francisco. He had never reached such a harmony with anybody before, not even Mattie or Lilly. There was no need to explain himself or his actions, Jenny always understood. No matter which mood arose in their many conversations, Jenny just nodded or, sometimes, smiled wistfully, and then her words - born of her own experiences in life- hit home.

 _Perhaps,_ he mused, _her life, not dissimilar to his own, had prepared her for this. She understood him so well - as if she had been shaped and modelled just for him._

And in this moment he knew that he would do whatever was necessary to keep her.

 

"Benjamin..."

He turned with a smile on his lips. The smile widened when he saw her in a green dress that resembled the one she had worn when disembarking from the stagecoach in Indian Springs many years ago. Only this time she didn't wear gloves, and she carried a matching umbrella in her hands.

Slowly, she came down the staircase. He walked up to stop her on the last step. Now they were the same height, and it was easy to kiss her without bending down.

"You are much too elegant a lady for a ruffian like me," he said.

"Ah... we'll have to get you some elegant clothes then, sir," Jenny replied. She smiled. It was exactly what she had had in mind, anyway.

 

 

Jenny took Ben to a tailor to buy a new outfit for their dinner engagement. In the beginning, Ben was slightly amused, joking with her about him being only a lowly rancher and not made for elegant clothes, even whispering something about the pointlessness of 'dressing up an outlaw', but when he saw that she was serious in presenting him as a 'gentleman' at t heir dinner in society that night, he mentally stepped back to evaluate who he was and who he wanted to be.

Jenny made him wear the latest fashion of shirts, vests, and suits. She buttoned up his vests and fastened ties for him until his unusually stiff movements and serious face made her perk up.  _No, that wasn't her Benjamin any longer. His movements didn't fit the clothes she had chosen for him, and more than that; he had lost his smile._

"Grey is the latest fashion," she tried to explain her actions. "And this suit fits you well. You look impressive in it."

"Who do you want to impress?" he asked, not giving his thoughts away.

"There are gentlemen at the dinner you might be interested in. You want to give the right impression to them."

He barked a short laugh.

"Impress them with a new suit and then spoil it by opening my mouth?"

His eyes sparkled with amusement.

"I'm sure you can _act_ the gentleman if you want to, Benjamin," she countered his challenge.

"So, you wanna make a gentleman out of me?" Ben asked still amused at the notion.

Jenny shook her head.

"No," she answered seriously, brushing some lint form the jacket's lapel and eyeing him up. "I just want to get your costume right for the role you are playing tonight."

They exchanged a long and serious look. Ben's hand came up to stroke her cheek with his knuckles.

"Is that what you're doing here, Jenny?" he asked her softly. "Playing a role?"

A little smile - somewhat sad - crossed her handsome face, and then it was gone again.

"Do you believe I would show the true Jennifer Carson to them?" she answered. For a moment she stopped her hands which had been re-arranging his collar.

_No. He hadn't thought she would. It was something that they both had in common, something that lay at the core of their personalities; the need to hide their past had made it impossible for them to be truly themselves around other people. And Ben realised that only with Lilly he had ever truly been himself. With Lilly, and with... Jenny._

"And who gets to meet the real Jennifer Carson?" he asked quietly.

Her hand opened another button of his shirt above the vest, and for a moment she touched his neck tenderly with her fingertips.

"Only you," she said without looking at him.

"What about your husband, Jenny? You told me you were married once," Ben wondered.

She shook her head.

"No. Not even he did see the real me."

He was puzzled.

"Why not?"

She sighed. "With Jim I always tried to be a better person than I really was. I made a conscious effort to live up to some ideal, to please him. I tried to _become a lady._ I didn't dare show him my lesser sides."

Her voice had changed, he could hear it. It had become wistful, regretful even.

"It is only you with whom I have ever been myself."

At her last words his hands grasped her around her waist, and he drew her into his embrace.

"I like your true self, Jenny," he whispered in her ear. "Don't got enough of you yet." He rubbed his nose softly in her hair. "Can't ever get enough of you."

He gave her a quick peck on her cheek. And with a sure instinct that belied his earlier disinterest, he reached for a light grey shirt, a richly embroidered black vest and a black suit. The only setback was the hat. His old hat didn't fit the new clothes and the black hat he chose wasn't as comfortable as he liked his hats to be. _Oh well... couldn't be helped. Jenny wanted him to look the part, and he was going to make certain he wasn't only looking it but_ playing _it as well..._

 

~~~

 

When they arrived at Henderson's imposing residence in Nob Hill, there was a line of carriages in front of them waiting to unload their illustrious guests.

Ben's eyes swiped over the building's facade; the lights of several candelabras shone through the huge windows. In front of the house was a roundabout that enabled the carriages to come in, unload their passengers and then continue out again.

"After my arrival in San Francisco I took my money to the bank to make sure it was safe," Jenny suddenly said softly. Ben almost held his breath. _Her voice sounded so wistful, almost as if she were confessing something. She knew Henderson well - he had gathered that from their encounter in the street. What was he about to hear?_

"When Henderson learned that I was a widow and that my husband's death hadn't left me with much, he took personal care of my cash. He assured me the money I entrusted him with would not diminish."

They were almost in front of the entrance and Jenny tugged at her gloves and gathered her little bag.

"He has kept his word. He helped me with advice when I bought my little house, and he helped me to set up my charity. He sometimes even visits there and over time has donated quite a sum to my cause."

"He does this for you?" Ben asked.

Jenny smiled at him. She knew what was behind his question.

"He tried - but I wasn't interested, Benjamin. And my refusal has never changed his behaviour towards me. He is one of the few men I  know who are both rich _and_ magnanimous, a genuine friend," she concluded.

 _She hadn't meant to intimidate him,_ Ben realized. _Quite the contrary. Her little speech was meant to put him at ease, to stress that Henderson was an honourable man._ Ben took her hand and kissed it.

The coach stopped and Ben opened the door and stepped outside, at ease with himself again.

For a short moment Jenny stayed inside the Hansom cab chasing away a thought about Henderson that had come up suddenly, a thought that sometimes haunted her. From one of her 'fallen woman charity cases' she had learned that Henderson belonged to those men who needed to compensate his role as the perfect gentleman and his generosity with occasional violence. The woman had told Jenny details she hadn't even encountered in her years in Amber Jones' brothel. Any fleeting interest Jenny might have had in the man had gone as soon as she had listened to the woman's tale.

But she would never betray a confidence, and as long as Henderson's friendly behaviour extended to Benjamin, there was no need for her to even think about these things.

 

 

 

 

 


	9. Dinner in society

"Mrs. Carson!"

Henderson approached them and kissed Jenny's hand.

"Lovely as ever," he murmured, his eyes boring into hers,before he turned to Ben.

"Mr.Wade."

"Mr. Henderson."

They shook hands.

"Let me introduce you to the Mayor, Mr. Sutro. - Mr. Sutro, I'm afraid our dear Mrs. Carson is no longer available to us, now that Mr. Wade claims all her attention."

 

"Mr. Wade?" a voice behind Mayor Sutro asked as Ben shook the Mayor's hand. " _The_ Ben Wade...?"

_Jenny froze. Ben's reasoning that he couldn't be found out had not been correct. His name was known - even in San Francisco. Henderson had already wondered, and now this young man knew..._

"This is Mr. LeClair," Henderson introduced a twenty-five-year-old man. "Now, how do you know our guest, Mr. LeClair?"

"You spoke for the prosecution of Confederate officers, did you not? And you didn't want the Southern States back in Congress, but President Johnson wouldn't hear of it..." the young man rambled on.

If Ben had been worried at first, Jenny hadn't spotted it. But at the young man's tirade an amused smile had settled on his face. _That young man thought him - him! - a politician._

"President Johnson?" he asked. "Sorry, Mr. LeClair, but you seem to confuse me with somebody."

"And I know whom," Henderson interrupted him, his voice reflecting a dawning realization. He tapped himself against his forehead in self-scolding and continued, "Mr. LeClair refers to the Senator Benjamin Wade from Ohio, the radical Republican. I made that same mistake when I heard your name. But it wasn't you, was it? You are much too young for that. I head 'Old Ben Wade' died - was it back in '77 or '78?"

" _'Old Ben Wade'_?" Ben asked amused.

"Yes," Henderson confirmed. "That was one of his nicknames. - So, you see, Mr. LeClair," he turned to his young guest. "Unless Mr. Wade has left the grave and suddenly rejuvenated, you are talking to a different Mr. Benjamin Wade here."

"Sorry to disappoint you," Ben said lightly.

"Ah, that's just as well," the young man said. "Mr. Wade had some strange ideas about negroes and women."

He wouldn't elaborate on this and Ben's interest wasn't sufficiently piqued to find out what his namesake had once been up to politically. He felt Jenny's hand take his. It was cold. _Jenny's hands were never cold. She had been afraid for him._

He squeezed her hand reassuringly, and suddenly he was overwhelmed by the feeling that _he was safe!_ Californian society would rather link him to politics than suspect him to be an outlaw. The chances that they ever found out were so remote, he could finally breathe freely. And more; he could use his real name again!

 

 

After being introduced to everybody, Ben sat with the Mayor and a Colonel from the Army at a small table smoking.

"Where is your ranch?" Mayor Sutro asked. "California?"

Ben shook his head. "No. Indian Springs, Nevada."

"Nevada!" Sutro called out. "Now, that is a rich country."

"You been there?" Ben asked.

Adolph Sutro nodded laughing. "I was there for twenty years, Mr. Wade. Made my money there. In East Dayton. Mining. Silver ore. Built a tunnel so the miners could dig deeper than before."

And, seeing Ben's astonishment, he added, "I'm an engineer, not a politician."

Ben chuckled. "So why did you run for Mayor?"

"Ah," Adolph Sutro smiled and leaned towards Ben, "because of the 'Southern Pacific Railroad'."

"What?"

The Mayor nodded. "They dominate Californian politics. And the 'anti-octopus'-movement put me up as counter-candidate. Now, since I left Nevada and returned to San Francisco fifteen years ago, I have done quite a bit for the town... and so I was elected."

_The Southern Pacific Railroad - who would have thought it?_

"Well... I guess everybody got their own ways opposing the Railroad," Ben said cryptically.

 

"Tell me about your ranch," Sutro asked Ben.

Ben complied. "I breed horses. They are a mix of Quarter Horse and Thoroughbred.

"Why do you mix them?" the Mayor asked.

"That way I get the qualities from both breeds. The calm of the Quarter Horses and the endurance and intelligence of the Thoroughbreds."

"I never figured horses to be intelligent," the Mayor said.

"Oh, they are," Ben confirmed.

"It's true," the Colonel said, "I rode such a horse when I was serving in Fort Gibson."

Ben smiled. "Might have been one of mine, then. Fort Gibson's always been one of my best customers."

Ben and the Colonel embarked on a talk about horses, but after a while they realized that the Mayor had gone quiet. But  he waved off their apologies with a gesture saying "Don't worry about me. I'm an old engineer and know nothing about horses, just about mining."

"I once meant to invest in mining, too," Ben remembered, "but it didn't work out. - And I'm real glad for it," he added. "Working underground, without fresh air...that's not for me. Feels like a prison."

The Colonel had been uncomfortable about ignoring an important man like the Mayor. It wasn't politically wise. After all, he was here to impress people like the Mayor. Ben's remark about prisons gave him a chance to sway the subject to something political.

 

"Are you interested in prison reform, Mr. Wade?" Colonel Bradford asked.

Ben grew suspicious, but didn't give any outward sign of it.

"I wouldn't say so, Colonel," he said and made it a point to smoke as calmly as he could. "Why would you think that?"

"It seems to me you are a man who won't tolerate nonsense," the Colonel said.

Ben smiled. "What's that got to do with prisons?"

"I was a prison warden once at the beginning of my career," the Colonel said. "I've learned that outlaws are incapable of betterment. I heard the government of Arizona wants to close Yuma prison."

That certainly got a reaction out of Ben.

"Close it?"

_Imagine the gates to that godforsaken place closed... the guards gone... no more whipping in the prison yard, no more locking up in the dark cell - that had been really bad. You didn't know when you were getting out, so every hour you spent in there felt like a day. And every day felt like a whole month!_

In his mind's eye Ben saw the guard tower rise, the guard tower and the new yard - built right behind the hospital room... the only place from which escape had been possible.

 

"Yes, close it," Colonel Bradford continued. "Apparently it's so overcrowded they will move the prisoners to Florence, Arizona. They built a new prison there. Imagine that! They build bigger prisons so they can  house and feed more criminals! It's no use keeping those prisons going. They cost too much already. And why waste the money? Best way is to hang those goddamn outlaws and be done with them!"

The Colonel had spoken with vehemence almost suspecting the 'lenient rancher' to object, but Ben didn't rise to the bait. He was still busy digesting what he had just learned.

_Yuma prison closed. The first cells of it had been constructed by the criminals themselves - so he had been reliably told by one of the first inmates after he himself had been taken there. When had that been? 30... no, almost 33 years ago. Yuma prison closed after 33 years!_

_Prisons had been part of his life. And they were always just... there. He had never seen one erected, never seen one closed down. Hadn't even contemplated it was possible a prison could... cease to exist._

_Yuma Prison - closed._

_It was dead. Gone. He had outlived it!_

 

"Dinner is served."

The call woke Ben from his musings. He rose and cast a glance around.

_He was in San Francisco, dining with politicians and businessmen. And they took him for one of them. He hadn't only outlasted Yuma Prison, he had overcome the whole lifestyle he had once had._

During dinner Jenny was seated away from him at the far end of the table. To Ben's right sat a fat, bald man. He was younger than himself. Ben guessed he was in his early fifties. But he was so obese he had trouble moving about; even trouble breathing. The short walk over from the salon into the dining room already seemed too much for him.

He introduced himself as Ian McDonald, and there was only one subject on his speaking note; money.

 

"That's right, Mr. Wade. The investment is in the cargo rather than the ships. The ships run to and back from London, Brazil, the West Indies into the harbour of San Francisco. They bring in good profit... _real good profit,_ I can tell you."   

Ben thought about it. _It was a nice idea, wasn't it? And it seemed like an easy way to replenish the money he had. But what if something went wrong?_

"It's still a big risk, isn't it?" Ben asked. "You put your money on a ship, but what if this ship goes down? Then your money's gone."

"Ah, that's why I prefer to invest in several ships' cargoes at the same time," McDonald said, leaning over to Ben in a somewhat showy way to become confidential. "Granted, some ships are lost at sea. But it doesn't happen often. And with my money spread amongst the cargoes of several ships... even losing one ship's cargo, I still make enough profit from all the others. Investment in ships, that's it, let me tell you."

McDonald puffed on his cigar, exhaling the smoke; sighing the sigh of a man too complacent and too satisfied with himself to be truly happy.

_Investing in ships and waiting for the money to come in. Nice idea. Let the ships' captains work for you instead working yourself._

Ben knew that the money he had brought with him wouldn't keep forever. Perhaps this was a way to keep it flowing without having to work for it. After all, he'd rather be with Jenny than having to find work in a city like San Francisco where there was an endless supply of cheap, willing labourers.

"Tell me more about your... _investments,_ Mr. McDonald," Ben said and McDonald laughed and launched into a detailed report of his financial pursuits and successes.

 

Further off where Jenny sat the talk was about 'fallen women' and 'brothels'.

Mr. LeClair had taken Jenny's account of her charity's endeavours to expand on one of his political ideas. After all, he was here tonight to make a lasting impression on some of San Francisco's most important inhabitants!

"Those whorehouses need to be closed down - you are wrong for pampering those women, Mrs. Carson. They need to be put in a workhouse - or behind bars!"

His plea was so passionate and heartfelt, nobody dared to oppose him. His words had been loud enough to be heard by everybody at the table, but the diners kept silent.

Ben took a sip of his wine and carefully placed the glass back before he turned to LeClair at the other end of the table.

"Have you ever visited a brothel, Mr. LeClair?" he asked softly.

The silence was so loud you could hear your heartbeat.

LeClair sat up straight and smiled a superior smile at Ben.

"What do you imply, Mr. Wade?" he asked.

"Well..." Ben said with a somewhat innocent look, "The way I see it, you can only sit and talk about fallen women being sinners when you have never seen a brothel from the inside. All the women do there is trying to survive. Some of them lost their families or their husbands, some of them never had male protection in their life. Faced with starvation, not being allowed to do proper work, not being accepted by people such as you, they do the only thing possible for them."

He paused but nobody spoke up.

"It seems to me that you don't know what are talking about," Ben continued, "which isn't good advertising for a role in public, is it?"

The people around held their breaths. Mr. LeClair sported a blazing red face, whether from embarrassment or anger Ben couldn't be sure.

"You seem to know about the inhabitants of brothels, Mr. Wade," he sneered, sure that this turn of conversation would give him the upper hand.

Ben smiled - a smile that spread on his face and reverberated deeply in his eyes. "Yes," was all he said.

The women present gasped at his admission. Jenny lowered her head and hid her smile behind her hand. From under her eyelashes she observed the faces of the men rather than the women, and their far-away looks or slight smiles indicated that they, too, knew what brothels looked like from the inside...

 

~~~

 

_That pearly laughter! He loved the sound of it._

"What are you laughing about, Jennifer Carson?"

"You!" Jenny was sitting on the stool in front of her vanity, brushing her hair looking at his reflection in the mirror.

"I just remembered the way you silenced Mr. LeClair when he spoke about the brothel tonight... wonderful, Benjamin!" She shook her head in amusement and giggled again.

Ben chuckled and placed the cuff links on the nightstand, shrugging out of his new shirt. Even though the suit was a good fit, he felt much more comfortable with those clothes off.

When he turned he beheld Jenny frozen in front of the mirror. Her movements had stopped, the brush with which she had just been brushing her hair still in her hand, both hands resting in her lap. She was looking at herself, a frown creased her forehead.

_What was she thinking about?_

Slowly, Ben walked up behind her and softly placed his hands on her shoulders.

"What is it, Jenny?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

She awoke from her musings, shook her head and gave him an artificial smile.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

She sighed. _Benjamin was too astute not to pick up on her mood. And he knew her so well... too well, actually. She couldn't hide from him when she felt low._

 

He let go of her shoulders and crouched down. Their eyes met in the mirror. She turned to face him, not knowing what to say.

He took her hands in his and his fingers softly stroked them. _They had all the time in the world. If she wanted to talk, she would._

Jenny took a deep breath. His patience was endless. _He could wait until doomsday. She might just as well tell him what was on her mind._

"When Mr. LeClair talked about the brothel, I was thinking about my own life," Jenny said.

Ben didn't look into her eyes. Silently, he kept stroking her hands.

"I... I just couldn't believe it had been for _fifteen_ years that I was a ... a..."

One of Ben's hands rose to caress her cheek. She swallowed hard.

"And I also realized how lucky I was, Benjamin. Not just by getting out and away from it all. But also..." - for a moment she searched for the right words to explain the feelings of relief and gratitude she had felt .

"You know, in all the time when I was working for Amber Jones - and also later when I rented my own place and entertained the rich customers on my own... I was never ill. Not once in all these years. I never caught one of those dreadful diseases whores catch so easily..."

Her voice quieted down to a whisper, "diseases that can even kill you."

Her eyes filled with tears. Ben's palms cupped her cheeks and his thumbs brushed the tears away as they came.

 _Would he be put off now?_ Jenny worried. _She shouldn't have told him. This was a subject men didn't want to think about when they paid for a girl. They paid and left, hoping to leave the guilt - and the threat of disease - behind. Benjamin was different from the men she had encountered in her life. But still; would her words blacken his image of her?_

Even after her tears subsided he kept stroking her cheek and chin.

"I know about those," he said quietly. "Had them myself after visiting girls sometimes. That's over, Jenny. It's over for both of us."

He didn't say more, but then he didn't need to. Jenny hid in his embrace. Again, she became aware of how close they were and how similar their experiences in life had been. _As if Benjamin had been created especially for her._

 

 

 

 

 


	10. Overcoming the past

"You see that boy over there?" Ben pointed to little Michael who stood at the street corner selling his flowers.

"That's Michael," Jenny answered. "I know him well. Why do you ask?"

"Do you know that it was Michael who led me to you?" he asked and had to smile at the astonished look she gave him a second later.

"It's true," he said. "I had spotted you in the street, but you were too far away. And you were running from me," he added mischievously.

Jenny cocked her head and raised her eyebrows, looking at him provocatively. His smirk grew even wider.

"Michael took me to your house. Without him I wouldn't have found you again."

He could see her swallow hard at his words.

He raised her hand to his lips. "Come on," he said, "let's get some flowers for you. Give the boy some business."

 

~~~

 

"And the little girl looks exactly like her grandmother?"

Jenny handed Ben a cup of coffee, then she sat down beside him on the comfortable couch they had purchased together.

She sounded so surprised that Ben had to smile. _She had never had a family of her own. She had never recognised herself in a child - like he had seem himself in Lilly, time and time again._

"The moment I held her in my arms I could see Rachel," he explained. "I know Lilly saw it, too. She had chosen the name 'Ellen' at first. A boy was to be named 'Ben'. But when she held the baby in her arms, she looked at me and said 'Rachel'."

He took a sip of his coffee and continued wistfully, "she was right. Her hair and her eyes were alike, I think it will be even worse when she grows up."

His voice had changed, and Jenny could hear that old memories had come into the mix. 'Worse'. _Why would it be bad if the little girl looked like her grandmother? Perhaps this was a good time to bring up a few ghosts that seemed to haunt him. Of all the women he had mentioned in his tales, he had always managed to keep any mention of Rachel short and devoid of feeling._

"You know, Benjamin, you never told me much about Rachel. After all, she was the first woman you lived with. And of all the women she spent the longest time with you, didn't she?"

 _Spending time with him..._ For a moment Ben thought of Mattie. _As short as their time together had been, his best memories were about Mattie... his best - but also his most painful._

He closed his eyes in pain and, naturally, Jenny assumed he was thinking about Rachel. When he perceived her look he gave a little smile and a slight shake of his head as if to reassure her that he was alright.

_What had she asked? Oh, yes... Rachel._

"Rachel..." His voice died down again. _What to tell? What had Rachel been to him?_ After all these years he still wasn't comfortable with his memories of her.

"I wronged her," Ben finally said after a long silence. "I took her to my bed and she didn't want it. She hoped to stay on my ranch to shield herself and her son from discovery, and she gave in to me because she thought it was the only way."

"Was it the only way?" Jenny asked softly.

Ben shook his head.

"No. If she had spoken up for herself I would never have..."

He fell silent again. _Would he have used his superiority over her to command her into his bed? - No._

When he beheld Jenny expecting an answer, he simply shrugged his shoulders. "That's not the type of woman she was," he said. "And I took advantage of her. Having a woman on the ranch... someone who was... _there_... who was available..."

He paused. _Truth was, Jenny's visit to his ranch had brought up the idea of a female companion for the first time. When she had left, he had become aware of the fact that something essential was missing in his life. And Rachel had been in need of a job and a hiding place. Just like he had been in need of..._

"...It was something I needed," he concluded.

With this he hoped to finish the issue, but Jenny was too experienced in handling men and their psychological dilemmas. She had listened to too many confessions in the brothel not to feel that there was still more to confess. _But what might that be? Rachel was long since dead. There was nothing Benjamin could do to make amends. He had told her about his times as an outlaw and about his mother leaving him behind at the tender age of eight. Somehow he had overcome all the hardships of his past. Except for Rachel..._ She decided to probe a bit further.

"Two people don't talk with each other... a woman not telling a man what she wants... it doesn't sound too terrible to me, Benjamin. And, after all, you had a daughter together."

Ben chuckled mirthlessly.

"A daughter she hated."

"Hated?"

"Yes." He rose suddenly, and it was only now that Jenny understood how agitated he was under his cool exterior. His breathing became laboured; he seemed to be lost in a memory. By now, she knew how vulnerable her Benjamin could be. _Perhaps this time she had poked too deeply._

"I came in one evening..."

He stood at the window with his back to her and she could see his breath fog the window's glass while he spoke.

"Lilly was in the bath,,, and Rachel..." He closed his eyes, a frown etched itself deeply into his forehead. Even now, after all these years, it was difficult for him to remember that scene.

"...Rachel held a wooden cooking spoon and meant to hit Lilly with it."

His hand rubbed over his face as if to wipe off cobwebs. Quickly, Jenny rose and approached him.

"She... she raised her arm, and..."

He meant to turn away, meant to regain his composure, but Jenny had already approached and enfolded him in a warm embrace. Her touch reminded him that he didn't need to keep up appearances with her. Here, within their small, secluded world, he could let go.

After he had cried his fill and they had both downed a whisky she spoke.

"No wonder you hated Rachel."

He gave no answer. Jenny poured them both another whisky."

"Did you k now that with her last breath she tried to destroy me?" he said softly before he raised the glass to his lips again.

"How?" Jenny was aghast.

"She told the doctor my true name and that I was a killer."

"What happened?"

"The doctor never told anyone. All the years he kept silent. Only when I stood exposed in front of the whole town the doctor spoke up and defended me."

Jenny took a deep breath. "So she felt she had to avenge herself and she did. But there is no reason to dislike the little baby just because she looks like Rachel. She is not her grandmother."

She didn't look at Ben but finished her whisky instead. She knew that he was too intelligent - and too brutally honest with himself - not to pick up on he train of thought. And after the emotional outburst he was just recovering from, he needed some time on his own.

She stretched and yawned.

"It's late. I'm going to bed." She placed her glass on the table and walked up to him to give him a soft kiss on his cheek.

"Don't be too long," she said quietly.

He smiled. _How well she understood that he needed some time on his own now._

"You better make sure you are asleep before I come up," he said seriously, "or I'll ravish you."

The smug look that accompanied his words made her smile. They both knew that tonight 'ravish' meant 'cuddle'.

 

 

 

 

 


	11. An old adversary

"Where are we going, Jenny? Ben inquired somewhat suspiciously when Jenny looked him over critically and attempted to brush off some non-existent lint from his shoulder and lapel. A few days ago, before their dinner appointment, she had insisted he buy a new suit and hat. Now she had told him to get into his most elegant gear and get ready for a surprise.

"Why you making such fuss over my clothes? Where you taking me to?"

But Jenny just smiled at him - that catlike smile of hers that spoke of an empty dish.

"You'll see."

It was all she said, and not even a whispered offer about receiving his very special attention later that night made her give in.

 

An hour later they climbed out of a Hansom cab in 'Nob Hill', the poshest neighbourhood of San Francisco.

Ben looked at Jenny suspiciously. Her smile seemed almost triumphant.

"What are you up to, Jennifer Carson?" he asked.

Still smiling she took his arm.

"It's a surprise for you, Benjamin. You'll see."

Nothing in her voice gave away what lay in store for him. After they had knocked and a servant had let them in and told them they'd be announced, an elegant man descended the stairs.

It was Grayson Butterfield.

He smiled widely and extended his hand towards Ben.

"Mr. Wade."

For once, Ben didn't know what to say.

 

"Jenny!"

Ben turned and beheld a pretty, plump woman he had seen once before in Chicago; Butterfield's wife.

"Eleanor!" Jenny and the woman embraced warmly. Ben began to understand that Jenny knew the Butterfields, and that his words to her late at night had given her the idea for this visit.

 

While the women chatted away about some charity event they were planning, Butterfield led Ben into his study.

It was a spacious room filled with expensive furniture and many trinkets, and it also held a small bookshelf. Ben walked over and had a look at the titles.

"I've never been much of a reader," Butterfield said behind his back while pouring cognac into two snifters. Ben smiled. _Yes, he could see that. It was evident from the titles._

Butterfield handed Ben his glass.

"Mrs. Carson and my wife Eleanor are fast friends. In fact, Mrs. Carson is the one who helped us settle into the community here when we came from Chicago two years ago," he said. "We are both very fond of her."

He pointed to a small sunlit table at the corner, and they sat down.

"When Mrs. Carson told us she would like us to meet you, she didn't give your name at first. We were happy to make the acquaintance of Mrs. Carson's... am..."

" _Lover._ " Ben supplied the word provocatively.

"Well... yes and no. The way Mrs. Carson spoke about you we got the impression that you have known each other a long time."

Ben smiled, and when Grayson Butterfield realized the meaning of his smile and involuntarily gave a shocked expression, he laughed out loud. _Obviously, Butterfield had problems imagining his reputable friend Jennifer Carson striking up an affair with the vicious outlaw Ben Wade._

"We know each other from when I first bought my ranch," Ben explained and had the satisfaction of seeing Butterfield's expression soften again.

"Ah... I see. That's... that's good. My wife Eleanor, she doesn't know you've been..."

"...an outlaw?"

Butterfield nodded and topped up their glasses. Then he offered Ben a cigar, and for a few minutes they smoked in silence.

 

 

"You are kidding?" Eleanor asked Jenny, her face a mixture of shock and excitement.

"No," Jenny shook her head. "He is the same man your husband has been trying to get behind bars for years."

"The man who escaped the train all those years ago when Grayson came back from Contention?"

"The same."

Eleanor sputtered a laughter behind a decently raised hand.

"And you have _known_ each other?"

Jenny nodded and smiled - a smile between women friends. Eleanor smiled back.

"Good for you. He seems delicious."

At that Jenny laughed.

"You are the only one among my friends who speaks like this, Eleanor."

"Well..." Eleanor Butterfield had blushed a bit at Jenny's words. "You know how people are. You better not tell them too much." Impulsively, she reached over and took Jenny's hands. "If they knew only half about what my Grayson and I are doing behind closed curtains... well..."

She covered her mouth with her hand again, sniggering, and Jenny couldn't suppress a giggle. But then she turned serious.

"Just as long as you don't tell anyone, Eleanor."

A dismissive wave of her friend's hand told her she needn't worry.

"So, he used to be an outlaw. What of it? I can see that he is exactly what you need; you've never been happier, never looked better."

Jenny blushed at Eleanor's frankness.

"And who says a man can't change?" Eleanor continued. "My Grayson said as much when he returned from that visit to Nevada." She frowned, trying to remember her husband's exact words.

"I have it now. He said 'The man is not the man I used to chase. He is changed because of his daughter. She is more important to him than his life.' - Yes, that's what he said. I think, for the first time in his life Grayson understood that all people are the same, and that it depends on the opportunities we have in life whether we turn out good or bad."

 

That very subject was discussed by the two men in the adjacent room as well.

"Speaking of 'outlaw'," Butterfield said, "have you ever met Frank James?"

"You mean the Jameses brothers - Frank and Jesse?" Ben verified.

Butterfield nodded. Ben shook his head.

"Nah. Didn't mix with the likes of them. Kept mostly to myself. Them Jameses had a reputation for trouble."

Butterfield laughed at this statement from a famous ex-outlaw.

"Mr. Butterfield," Ben said seriously, lowering his cigar, "I robbed for a living, not for fun. Those Jameses were different. Where they went, trouble followed." He shook his head again. "I ain't like that."

Butterfield's look became thoughtful. He had never contemplated an outlaw seeing what he did as 'business', as 'doing a job'. 'Robbing for a living', as Ben Wade had just put it... it shook his perception of the world and opened the gates to all kinds of questions about Ben.

"Why did you become an outlaw in the first place?" he asked curiously.

_Ah. There it was. The question everybody needed to ask in order to make sense of the man in front of them. As if they could understand. - He had told Dan Evans in that hotel room once because he knew that Dan would understand without romanticising him. And he knew that Dan wouldn't turn back no matter what he told hi. He would still take him to that train..._

"Never had no other chance." It was all Ben would offer Grayson Butterfield. But he could see it was enough. Butterfield might not be capable of imagining what Ben had had to go through in his life, but he wasn't naive. And he accepted his answer.

"It was just that I was wondering," Butterfield said. "Frank James got a pardon for his crimes in 1882 in Missouri. Did you know that?"

Ben shook his head. "And where is he now?" he inquired.

"I heard that he held a number of jobs. The man who told me the story said he was a ticket puncher in a theatre in St. Louis now."

Ben's eyes twinkled in amusement. _Yeah, going straight wasn't easy._ But Ben didn't quite see himself as a ticket puncher. So where was the parallel between him and Frank James?

"Missouri isn't San Francisco," Butterfield continued unaware of Ben's thread of thoughts, "and I am sure you are right when you say that you are not like Frank James." He paused a moment. "But should you need any help..."

Ben laughed out loud.

"You're buying the law here, too, Butterfield, like you tried to back in Contention?"

Butterfield blushed. But Ben hadn't meant to offend or provoke him.

"You that rich?" he asked him. His tone of voice convinced Grayson Butterfield that he had listened to the offer and was considering it.

_Could Butterfield really do that? Guarantee him a safe life in this city? Maybe he could. The Mayor had told him about the political influence of the railroad people in San Francisco, and Butterfield was one of their ex-presidents. So perhaps he should accept his offer. It would solve all his problems. He could stay with Jenny as he had promised, and he would never need to bother about somebody sneaking up on him and putting cuffs around his wrists ever again._

"I don't know," Butterfield confirmed. "I never tried."

Ben chuckled.

"You already helped me in Indian Springs," he reminded Butterfield, then, driven by a sudden need to know and lulled in by the friendliness of their conversation, he asked outright "Why did you do it?"

He remembered Butterfield's look at his daughter Lilly. He had a pretty good idea what Butterfield's answer would be, but he needed to hear it from the man himself.

"Your daughter," Butterfield confirmed Ben's thoughts. "I didn't want her to grow up without a father."

Ben nodded as the jigsaw piece fell into place.

"I have a daughter, too," Butterfield continued. "She married two years ago and came to San Francisco with her husband. That's why we are here, my wife and I. We have no other family left, and I'm retired now, the railroad is managed by others..." Butterfield's eyes were dreamy now, looking into the far distance, "so we came to be with out little Sleeping Beauty."

"'Sleeping Beauty'?"

"Yes," Butterfield couldn't help smiling, "that's what I always call her. When she was a little girl she used to be a sleepyhead, needed lots of cuddles and kisses to wake up."

Butterfield's words came out a bit bashful - after all, they were men, and emotions were something not easily spoken about, but it reminded Ben of a little girl with soft curls lying in his bed and growing up under the watchful eyes of her father...

 

"Are you gentlemen trying to burn my house down?"

Butterfield's wife came in, all boisterous and laughing, dragging them both away from their musings. With her hand she was waving the wafts of cigar smoke that fogged the air in the study.

"We have decided you men are taking us out for dinner," she told her husband and placed her hand on his shoulder. Butterfield looked up at her, his own hand coming up to his shoulder covering hers in a gesture that looked like a practised ritual. Ben observed them; they were wrapped up in each other, their love and an easy friendship visible in their eyes and gestures. Then, he felt a soft hand on his own shoulder...

 

 

 


	12. Committed

Dinner took place in an elegant restaurant beside the newly-built 'Barbary Coast', a gambling emporium that held all kinds of temptations for 'the gambling gentleman'. In these new and exciting times of 1895, even women were allowed to enter - provided they were accompanied by their 'spouses'.

Mrs. Butterfield had never visited such a place before, and she was giddy with excitement. After watching the gamblers at the various tables for some time, she tried her luck at roulette - convinced that sooner or later the ball would hit her 'lucky number'.

But chip after chip vanished from her hands, and the little ball never rolled into the slot required. Ben observed Butterfield; he didn't seem to mind. But his wife's excitement rose steadily, and Ben had seen too many men gamble their life away in his times not to notice the signs. A quick look at Jenny confirmed his thoughts; she looked worried, too. They nodded at each other, and Jenny touched her friend's elbow.

"Eleaner, let's go. I am tired," she said.

"Just a few more, Jenny, dear," her friend answered. She had, after all, a handful of chips left.

"No, now!" Jenny spoke decisively and louder than was necessary. She shook her friend urgently, and it was this conduct that made Mrs. Butterfield stop and look at Jenny.

"Aren't you feeling well?" she inquired, swiftly slipping into her usual role of friend and carer, all temptations of gambling gone.

"Let's just go, please," Jenny repeated.

Mrs. Butterfield sighed, but she turned immediately, fussing over her friend.

"You _are_ pale, Jenny. You want some fresh air," she observed. She patted her friend's cheek and realized she still had some chips in her other hand.

"Oh dear, what am I going to do with them?"

"You'll get cash for them at that counter over there," Ben pointed to a counter near the exit, and Butterfield and his wife went to exchange the chips and fetch the coats while Ben and Jenny stayed behind.

"How you feeling, Jenny?" Ben asked quietly letting his eyes sweep over the place.

"I am no longer at home in such places. And I don't want to remember them, Benjamin. I just want to go," Jenny answered. He bent to her and placed a soft kiss on her cheek.

"Me too, Jenny," he said.

 

 

With Jenny 'in dire need of fresh air' the party decided not to take a cab, but to walk off some of their energy in the mild evening air. The major streets were lighted by streetlamps, but they didn't want to walk close to the evening attractions where they had to zigzag through thongs of people. So they turned into the less crowded - and less brightly lit - roads.

"Stop right where you are!"

The voice was raspy, the sentence followed by a cough that reminded one of tuberculosis or pneumonia. Both women froze with shock. Ben had reacted by instinct and had shoved Jenny behind his back the moment the first word had been uttered. He and Butterfield exchanged a look, and Ben could see Butterfield swallow hard.

A man stepped out of the dark and approached them, in his hand a revolver. The man was alone - or so it seemed to Ben. At least, nothing in the man's body language gave a sign that he had any backup. Again, the man coughed.

"Now, you ladies, you hand over your purses and your nice little bracelets and whatever jewels you wear," he said with a sneer. Mrs. Butterfield's right hand went up cover her necklace as if to protect it - it was a gift she had inherited from her great-grandmother.

Ben watched the man closely. He wasn't too steady on his feet. The hand in which he held the revolver shook slightly. The man didn't seem drunk. Perhaps he was ill. But this might make the gun in his hand even more dangerous.

From behind his back Jenny handed the man her purse.

"Alright, we'll do it," she said. "Just don't touch us." Obviously, Jenny had come to the same conclusion as Ben. The man glanced into her purse.

"That ain't much," he said, then advanced. "And you've got a nice little chain around that neck of yours..."

As quick as lightening Ben struck the man's wrist with the side of his hand and the gun fell to the ground. With a fluent movement he gripped the man's arm and turned him, twisting the robber's arm in a tight grip.

"Nobody touches my woman." His soft voice was so low and so threatening that Jenny shuddered. _What would he do to this man?_

The robber gave a yell of pain when Ben slightly increased the pressure on his arm and shoulder.

"Now, I'm sure you don't want me to kill you, do you?" the soft, purring voice continued to tease. The would-be robber froze. It had just dawned on him that he had tried to rob somebody who was his match - perhaps even more, and that he was in grave danger.

"Well...?" Ben asked, twisting his arm again.

"No!" the robber yelled.

"No... _what?_ " Ben asked, drawing the game out like a cat playing with a mouse. A soft hand was placed on his arm. _Jenny._

"Please... d... d... don't kill me," the robber managed to stutter.

Another forceful move, and a savage yell from the man. Then Bet let him slump to the ground; he had just broken the robber's hand. The man on the ground started sobbing.

"You won't hold no gun no more," Ben said, "now pick yourself up and go." The man did as told, leaving his revolver behind. Ben picked it off the ground and opened the bullet chamber to look at it. There was only one bullet left in it - not much to threaten four people - but this one bullet might have struck Jenny. Without the slightest sign of remorse Ben but the revolver in his jacket pocket and turned to Jenny.

"You alright?"

She came into his arms and he held her tight.

"I love you," she whispered, her voice strong and steady. He could hear that there was no need to comfort her. Thinking again of the bullet in the revolver, he felt a wave of fear wash over him and he hugged her hard. "It's over," he whispered, and she nodded.

Beside them Mrs. Butterfield gave a little shriek and fainted. Quickly, her husband caught her.

"That's the way she is," he said. He was white as a sheet himself. "She only shows weakness when the danger's over."

The love for his wife was vibrating in his voice, and he and Ben exchanged a smile.

"I'll get a cab for you," Ben said and stepped out into the brighter lit streets while Jenny searched Eleanor's purse for her salts to revive her.

 

 

Later that night Jenny and Ben lay in bed pondering their friends Eleanor and Grayson Butterfield and the depth of commitment of their marriage.

"You never told me much about your husband, Jenny," Ben said softly.

"Jim?"

He felt her tense a moment, then she relaxed again.

"What is it you want to know, Benjamin?"

His hand stroked her hip reassuringly.

"Whatever you want me to know."

She paused a moment as if unsure where to begin.

"Jim was a gentleman. A real gentleman. And I was so young. A girl of eighteen."

Ben pictured Jenny at eighteen; her hair brown and shining, her face still girlish and not so round and soft, her figure already showing the promise of her lush curves...

"Jim said he fell in love with me the first time he saw me."

Ben smiled at that. _Of course he would!_

"My family was poor, Benjamin. I couldn't go to school. I barely knew how to read and write. But Jim didn't mind. He said he would teach me."

She laughed, overcome by her memories.

"He came to our place. My mother had just baked cookies for my brother, because it was his birthday. And there was this gentleman wanting to speak to her husband. So my mother made him a cup of tea and gave him the plate of cookies. And Jim sat there and ate the cookies - my brother hated him for that!"

Ben laughed, and Jenny joined in before she turned serious again.

"Then my father came home. And before he could say a word, Jim greeted him and asked him for my hand..."

Her voice died away, and Ben wasn't sure she would tell more. But then she laughed again, more memories making themselves known.

"I remember our wedding night. Oh, Benjamin, you would have laughed at the innocent I was. I was so shy at first - didn't dare to look, didn't dare to touch, not even myself. And he was so... _unashamed._ He talked freely about everything! - He taught me about my own body, about the joy of it. So often, we would end up laughing because I didn't know what to do or did it wrong."

She laughed joyfully, lost in the moment, and Ben felt a jealous stab. _She seemed miles away from him - in a happier place and time!_

"Being free with myself... being free with a lover... laughing... I lost all that when Jim died. In all the years in Amber Jones' brothel I never even came close to that. I only ever found it again when I met you, Benjamin."

They hugged, and it seemed to Ben as if she didn't want to let go of him, as if she was still afraid he might turn out to be a mirage.

He turned them both so he came to lie on top of her.

"You won't ever lose it again, Jenny," he promised.

He saw in her eyes she didn't believe it. Oh, she trusted him, Ben knew that. But he also knew that Jenny wasn't eighteen any more. Life had taught her that there were no guarantees, that neither love nor life itself were safe. And who knew what lay in store for them?

_How to make her understand his commitment to her?_

"Jenny, I've written a letter to my daughter."

"So you said today."

"I want you to read it."

"What - now?"

"Yes. Now."

 

~~~

 

"There's a letter for you, Lilly. It came with the last stagecoach," Johnny said handing Lilly the letter he had picked up in town. Lilly looked at the handwriting and eagerly opened it. It read:

 

_"Dear Lilly,_  
_As you know from my cable I arrived in San Francisco some weeks ago. The city has changed a lot. Quite by chance I met a woman I have known many years ago. We are getting acquainted again._  
_I am well, and I hope you, Johnny, and the children are well, too._  
  
_About the woman I mentioned above ~~I need to tell you that she and I...~~ "_

 

The last words had been crossed out. Lilly could see that her father had obviously paused before writing on, for the words following were written in a much more flamboyant handwriting.

 

_"Little Flower,_  
_I love this woman. I loved her when we first met nearly twenty-five years ago, and I have fallen in love with her all over again here in San Francisco. I am not coming back._  
_Your father,_  
_Ben Wade"_

 

Lilly gave a cry - whether of shock or anger, she didn't quite know. Johnny who was carrying a sack of flour into the storeroom jump-started and ran over. She handed the letter to him, and from the expression on her face he could see that she was furious. Johnny read the letter and a rare feeling gripped him; a feeling of joy and triumph. _Whoever this woman was, she had managed what he, Johnny, had never accomplished. She had put a barrier between Lilly and her father._

"She can't make him forsake his family," Lilly spat angrily. "Who does that woman think she is?"

Silently, Johnny handed her back the letter. _Well, whoever she was, Ben had obviously decided to stay with her._

"You will have to go to San Francisco, Johnny, and fetch him home," she said.

Johnny stared at her incredulously.

"You must be kidding!"

"No, I'm not. And if you don't go, I will."

She turned angrily and continued laying out the table while their little boy watched his parents with big eyes. Johnny couldn't believe it.

"You would leave your children to chase after your father?" he asked.

"Chase him? Getting him home!" she corrected.

"You forget your father is a grown man. He can decide for himself where he wants to be. What if he doesn't want to come back? For Heaven's sake, Lilly, you don't even know where he is staying in San Francisco!"

The fork she held slipped out of her fingers as Lilly realized that Johnny was right. - Yes, he was right, but she would never admit it. She threw the remaining cutlery on the table and ran into their bedroom, smashing the door shut behind her.

 

 

 

 

 


	13. Michael, the flower boy

Utter bliss.

Ben was lying in bed with Jenny. It was still dark. He lay on his back, completely relaxed, slowly coming out of sleep. Jenny had snuggled up at his side, and he had wrapped his arm around her, keeping her safe and warm. Her small hand was lying on his chest, his own handheld it there. Her forehead rested against his bearded cheek.

The sun wasn't up yet. On his ranch he would have already been up now. But this was San Francisco. Here he could sleep a few hours longer, holding his woman in his arms; and later go down to a sumptuous breakfast - a breakfast that would be ready and served, not one he had made for himself. He smiled at the thought.

The day before Jenny had washed her hair. It smelled wonderful.

Tentatively, his hand came up and fingered its softness; it was still damp.

Still asleep, Jenny reacted to his gesture. Her head lay on his shoulder, and she simply bent her neck so that her lips could reach his cheek. She kissed it softly - and again. And then once more. After her kisses, her head nestled back to its resting place.

"Don't stop," Ben murmured.

"I didn't want to wake you," she whispered back, her voice full of sleep.

"I am not awake. I am dreaming," he said, and, after a pause, he added, "dream with me."

She smiled.

"I am, Benjamin," she whispered. "You are my dream come true." Before she drifted back into sleep he could hear her murmur, "were you no longer here, I should die."  

 

~~~

 

"What do you think of this one, Michael?"

Ben held a book in front of the boy. Its title was 'Moby Dick - the adventurous tale of Captain Ahab and his hunt for the white whale by Hermann Melville'.

Michael looked but wasn't interested. "Good," he said.

"Don't like books much, do you?" Ben asked.

"Nah," Michael said, shaking his head.

"Why not?"

Michael shrugged his shoulders. He couldn't read, so what was the point of buying books?

"If I gave you this book, what would you do with it?"

"Sell it." The answer was out quickly.

"You wouldn't read it first before selling it?" Ben asked with a slightly superior smile.

"Can't read," Michael mumbled. The smile vanished from Ben's face. _Of course. If the boy couldn't read, he could treasure a good book, couldn't even tell a good one from a bad one._

Michael's head was still down. He peeked out at Ben, trying to gauge his mood. But Ben didn't give his thoughts away.

"Well... before I give away a book, boy, I definitely want to read it first. Here. You take the bag. I'll pay for this book."

Ben smiled to himself. _And here he had been wondering what to do when Jenny was busy with her charity... from now on he would teach Michael to read and write._

 

~~~

 

A small vase, in it a bunch of primroses, already wilting. Jenny stood and touched them.

"They are still beautiful," she said.

"Hm..." Ben agreed, "As beautiful as the flowers in Butterfield's garden."

His tone of voice was strange, and when Jenny looked at him she could see him smirk widely.

"You are not saying...?" she started, then she shook her head.

_They had visited the Butterfields for tea a few days ago, sitting in their garden. Mrs. Butterfield had wanted to show Jenny her primroses. '...the most beautiful to be found in San Francisco. I know, you love them, too, Jenny, dear..."  But they didn't seem as numerous as she remembered, and Eleanor Butterfield was confused. Ben's sharp eyes had spotted several stems from which the blossoms had been cut. But he hadn't mentioned it to anyone._

"No. Michael couldn't. How would he know where the Butterfields live, anyway?"

If she was expecting a reassuring remark or look from Ben, she certainly didn't get it. If anything, he only smirked wider.

"Shows that you don't know the boy so well," he said.

"You are joking, aren't you?" Jenny asked.

"No." Ben shook his head. "Did Michael never tell you how he obtains his flowers?"

Obviously, he hadn't.

Jenny was looking at Ben expectantly, folding her arms across her chest, waiting for his explanation. Ben sat down comfortably on the couch.

"Come here." He held out his arms, his smile inviting. Jenny slid on his lap, her arms came around his shoulders, she kissed his temple and then rested her lips there while he spoke.

"He gets up while it's still dark. Then he runs all the way to Nob Hill where the rich people live. He climbs into their gardens and picks flowers - a few here, a few there. Never the prettiest ones, and never enough for them to notice. Then he puts them in his little basket and runs back with them to here, so that nobody will catch him in that posh neighbourhood. He really knows what he's doing," he added.

Jenny looked at him.

"How do you know all this?"

Ben shrugged. "He does this every day, Jenny. Tries to make a few dollars to help feed himself and his mother. If he is lucky, he makes two or three dollars, sometimes a little more. Most money he ever made with his flowers was five dollars. He can't afford to _pay_ for them flowers first, Jenny."

"You like him, don't you?" Jenny asked, running her fingers through his hair.

"He's a clever little boy," Ben confirmed.

"How do you know all this?" she repeated her earlier question.

Ben smiled. "We talked... man to man."

"Robber to robber, you mean," Jenny corrected, her smile now indicating how pleased she was at their friendship. Ben bathed in her smile. _Of course. A woman like Jenny wouldn't find offence. He had always known this._

"Well, the people he takes the flower from are those who can afford to lose them. It's not that they miss them."

"Except when they want to show them off like poor Eleanor her primroses," Jenny laughed and Ben joined in.

"Two or three dollars isn't much" Jenny said.

"No. That's why he is in love with you, Jenny. You are his best and most regular customer."

"Buying stolen goods!" she exclaimed, all indignant.

Both laughed again, then Jenny turned serious.

"He shouldn't be doing this. What if he gets caught?"

"Nobody catches him. Not the way he does it. We talked about it. Only dangerous thing is when somebody's got a dog running free in their garden. He told me he almost got ripped apart by a big dog once," Ben said.

"O God... that sounds awful."

"Hm... I told him he might make better money running errands, but he says he tried that. People are not willing to trust him with much. He only earns a few cents for running errands - even less than he can make selling his flowers."

"Then we have to find a way for him to 'work' for us, so he can make a few dollars," Jenny decided removing herself from Ben's knee. It was exactly what Ben had decided, too. And he had a pretty good idea how to make Michael 'work'.

 

~~~

 

"No more candies!" Lilly screamed at her son and snatched the bag from him. Angrily, she threw the bag into a drawer. "Go upstairs and wash your hands before dinner." Slowly, the boy walked up the steps into his bedroom.

When Johnny came inside a moment later and climbed up the stairs to wash before dinner, he could hear his son sob behind the door. He opened and looked inside. Little Johnny was sitting among his playthings - animals, people and farm equipment his father had carved for him- and cried.

"What's the matter, boy?" he asked. "Mum been angry?" His son nodded.

"Whatcha do?"

His son rubbed his eyes with his little fists. "Eat candies."

"Yeah?" his father inquired. "You got some left?"

"Mum put them away."

Johnny nodded at that. "That's okay. We'll eat them after dinner."

His son looked at him. The tears had painted streaks on his dirty face.

"You need to wash, son," Johnny said and held out his hand. His son got up, but he didn't reach for his hand. Instead, he hurled himself at his father's legs, burying his head. Johnny bent down and picked him up, hugging his little boy.

"Don't worry, Johnny," he said. "Mum's angry at the moment. But tomorrow it will be okay." _I hope,_ he added in his thoughts. Ever since that letter had arrived, Lilly had changed. As if Ben had not only been a guide in her life, but also the only reason for her to behave in a decent way towards others.

Johnny thought back at the wild and joyful girl Lilly had been when he had first met her. _Had that really only been five years ago?_

Their time as newly-weds rose before his inner eye, a time of laughter and love-making. Lilly had been after him even more than before. The birth of Little Johnny had turned her into a sensual, passionate woman - a pretty demanding woman. And he had been only too happy to fulfil her demands. He had lost track of the many times Ben had inadvertently stumbled upon them and withdrawn again - first smirking at Johnny, then more and more often rolling his eyes in mock reproach... and silent, unspoken jealousy.

Johnny smiled at the memory while washing his little son's hands and face. _Perhaps tonight he could offer to fulfil a wish of Lilly's again._

 

 

 

 

 

 


	14. Little house on Pacific Heights

"It's too difficult!"

Frustrated, Michael threw the book away. It crashed against the wall and landed with a dull 'thud'. Suddenly scared by his action, Michael looked at Ben. _The book had been expensive. What would Mr. Wade do now?_

Calmly, Ben leaned back in his chair and folded his hands on his belly.

"Pick it up," he told Michael, and the boy quickly obeyed placing the book carefully on the table in front of Ben.

"Let's find that passage again," Ben said without moving. Michael hung his head, but then he picked up the volume and browsed through the pages to find the dog-eared page at the beginning he had been toiling over.

_If only he could get back to selling his flowers again. Learning to read and write was too difficult a thing to do! And it wouldn't help him anyway, no matter what Mr. Wade had said. Who would want to employ a boy like him in a decent job, just because he happened to be able to read and write?_

Michael thought of his mother who had been overjoyed when he told her that he had found a job that paid him three dollars a day! _Unfortunately, for the money Mr. Wade was paying him, he had to be at his beck and call the whole day. And if there was nothing to do like carry parcels or running errands, Mr. Wade wasted his whole time teaching him._ Oh, how Michael wished that he found something else for him to do!

What Michael didn't know was that Ben had problems of his own, problems that kept him awake at night when he was lying beside Jenny.

 

 

"No, not yet, Mr. Wade. I expect the 'Louisiana' to return in two months. Perhaps six weeks if she's fast."

"Too bad."

"What is it?" McDonald asked. "If you need money, I'm sure Henderson will grant you a credit. No problem there."

"No, that's not necessary," Ben said, then touched the brim of his hat in greeting. "Mr. McDonald."

 

When Ben left McDonald's office, he stepped out into pouring rain, the weather fitting his mood perfectly this day. He hailed a Hansom cab.

_He DID need money. The money he had left would only keep a few more weeks. Granted, now that he lived at Jenny's place he didn't need much. If necessary, he could stretch his dollars even a few months - hell! He knew how to survive without a single cent. But it wasn't how he wanted it to be. He felt increasingly bad about living off Jenny._

_A man should be able to pamper the woman he loved, spoil her rotten. Instead, she was feeding him._

 

~~~

 

"Here we are, lady. Pacific Heights. Where do you want to go?" the cab driver asked.

"Just let us off here," Jenny answered, and she and Ben alighted.

"So this is 'Pacific Heights'," Ben said when the cab was gone. They stood on the outskirts of the cultivated land and looked towards the nearby forest. Ben took a deep breath.

"Smells good out here," he said, "better than back in the city."

His eyes took in the green of the woods and Jenny saw how much he enjoyed being out in the open.

"You  know," he said pointing to their clothes, "if we're supposed to be hunting, we aren't dressed right."

They had been invited by one of society's hot-shots to a 'hunting-picnic'. Ben had been slightly confused about the combination of those two things, but then, if ladies were invited, there would have to be more to it than just shooting animals, would there?

Jenny laughed and linked arms with him.

"'Hunting' for Californian society means the women are all dressed up, there will be a picnic, and perhaps - if you are lucky - they will give you a rifle and ask you to shoo clay pigeons."

" _Clay pigeons?_ " Ben asked, convinced she was making fun of him.  

Jenny laughed at his expression.

"You are in San Francisco, my love," she said, "everything is different here. And especially in the circles you move now."

Ben smiled. "Keep talking like that," he said.

"Like what?"

"Calling me 'my love'."

His voice took on the deep purr she loved so much.

"No! You cannot seduce me out here in the open!" she cried and freed her arm trying to run from him. But he was too fast for her. A quick grip into her hair, his arm firmly around her waist, and she was trapped.

"Now you've got to _beg_ me to kiss you," he whispered, his eyes boring into hers, but she gave a triumphant laugh.

"No surrender! Remember?"

_Yes, these had been the words that had triggered it all... the Poker game, and the intimate game afterwards... so many years ago._

They both laughed so hard, he had to let her go.

A look at Jenny's little golden watch revealed that they still had plenty of time, and so they walked in the sparsely built-up area. Pacific Heights wasn't populated. There were no restaurants and no gambling halls, nothing but forest, meadows, and a few lonely houses dotted around the landscape.

 

"That's a pretty house," Ben suddenly said and pointed to a small villa which stood close to the street. It had a small front lawn. The windows facing the street were big and looked inviting.

They stepped closer and saw that it was for sale.

"Do you wish to have a look inside?" a voice behind them asked.

They turned and beheld an old man. He was taller than Ben, thin as a rake, and his eagle-like eyes looked every bit the predator.

Jenny frowned and opened her mouth, but Ben forestalled her, "Yes, we'd be grateful. Thank you."

He squeezed her hand with a smile. _They had plenty of time, so why not?_

"My father built this house... do come in. Don't mind all this stuff. We are deciding to give away a few things... Ah, my dear, these are two visitors who've come to see the house."

A woman, considerably younger than the man, approached. "Welcome. Shall I make a cup of tea?"

"Yes, Laura, dear, make us some tea and bring some of that splendid apple cake of yours. Meanwhile we'll tour the house - here, lete's go through here first..."

 

An hour later they were seated in a small but tastefully furnished salon.

"The house has been on the market for quite a while now, but nobody wants it."

"Why is that?" Ben asked. The house was nice.

"It's too large for a couple, but too small for big families, you see. And for most people, it is too far off from the city. There's just nobody to appreciate such a small place. And for me and my... well, I want out of it. It's getting too big. I want something smaller."

Ben let his eyes swipe over the room. _Damn, but it was nice! And best of all was the surrounding area. Living here, one could even have a horse and ride out into the woods!_

"I'm afraid we must leave now," Jenny spoke up. "We are late for our hunting party."

"Oh, are you going there?"

"Yes, why?" Ben asked.

"Oh, nothing. But them hunters, I tell ye, they are not real hunters. They couldn't shoot a rabbit if their survival depended on it. Couldn't shoot it, and if they did by chance, they couldn't skin and prepare it."

Ben laughed heartily. _The man was definitely to his taste._

"Well... I guess I'm gonna find out about that," he said and rose, now almost looking forward to his 'lesson' about Californian society hunting.

 

 

"Never again!"

Jenny laughed merrily at Ben's indignation.

"You  know, woman, I believe you done this on purpose."

"Purpose?" Jenny's look was pure innocence.

"Yeah, calling me a Civil War sharp shooter in front of all these other women!"

"You were wonderful, Benjamin!" Again she laughed hard and long, thinking back on a most memorable outing.

 

_He had missed his first clay pigeon because he had been unused to the rifle they had handed him. But after that first missed shot, he had gotten everything down - and not just clay pigeons. The ladies had outdone themselves in pointing out target after target, and Ben hat hit them, time and again, without fail._

_For a moment Jenny had even spotted a man emerging from beneath his fashionable clothes and smooth facade, a rough man who knew no mercy once he had seen his target, a man who was used to shooting - and killing - for his survival. But only she, Jenny, knew that this man really existed... or had once...And the element of danger that his demeanour had exuded had thrilled the female company._

 

"The ladies present were most impressed with you," Jenny said, her eyes sparkling.

Ben looked at her.

"You wanna trade me off to one of them, then?"

Jenny's eyes changed all of a sudden. Although his remark had been a joke, there was a fear in her eyes that he had never seen before.

"No more hunting parties for me, Jenny," he said quietly. "I don't want no society people to waste my time. Not when I can spend time with you."

He must have said something right, for the way Jenny kissed him was so passionate that they were both out of breath afterwards. 

 

 

 


	15. Homesick

"Now, let's see..."

Ben looked at a list of errands he had to run for Jenny. "The millinery is next. We are to pick up a hat. Do you think you can carry a hat for the lady, Michael?"

When nobody answered Ben turned and realized that he had lost his 'caddy' Michael. He stood transfixed in front of a shop window some yards back.

"What's up, Michael? Why aren't you coming?" Ben called, but the boy did not hear him. He just kept staring into the shop window.

Ben walked over and understood. "Let's go inside," was all he said.

 

Inside was a boy's dream come true; it was a huge room with a large counter. The wall behind it was lined with shelves from the top to the bottom. On the shelves were uncountable glass jars with candies.

"Good afternoon, sir," they were greeted by a middle-aged clerk. "What would you like?"

Ben and Michael looked at each other, and both smiled a wide smile. _This would take a while..._

 

 

"Didn't Michael return with you, Benjamin?"

"Yes, but he's running an errand for me - delivering a letter," Ben answered. "Why? Do you need him?"

"No," Jenny shook her head, "but we have so much left over from yesterday's dinner, I thought he could take it home and share it with his mother."

_Wasn't that typical of his woman? She never offered to do this when they had had a simple stew or merely a soup. But that day they had eaten duck and fresh peas, and there was plenty of meat left._

_Jenny was so considerate with everybody she dealt with, it was a shame that she had never had a family of her own - plenty of children to pamper, and a husband to spoil... oh, well... that last one could be remedied._

"You don't mind, do you?" she asked when Ben just stared at her lost in thought. His gaze made her nervous.

_She had never thought twice about giving anything away before. It had always been her habit to let Mrs. Wormwood have special titbits that she knew the woman couldn't afford herself. And it was the same with Michael. How often had she given him an extra dollar to help feed himself and his mother!_

_But Benjamin had worked hard for every cent he owned. And since they were living together now, she felt that her money was his money, too. Perhaps he didn't want things given away like this. She had to get used to him having an opinion, too. She had to ask him first._

 

Ben nodded at her. "It's a good idea, Jenny. I'm sure the boy has never had food like this before. I sure never had as a boy."

She smiled at his words. _Of course, it was right. Benjamin liked the boy, too. And it was precisely his past that he had told her about that made him want to give Michael what he hadn't had as a boy._

"Well, Mrs. Wormwood, that settles it," Jenny said with a nod to the woman, "please pack the remainder of the meal so that Michael can take it with him, will you?"

 

"Mr. Wade! Mr. Wade, sir!"

Michael burst into the house, startling them all.

"What happened?"

With three adults looking at him expectantly, Michael became shy all of a sudden. Ben held his eyes, waiting for him to speak. He slowly approached.

"I can read," he told Ben, a shy smile on his lips.

Ben raised his eyebrows in a perfect show of suspicion. Then he shook his head no.

"I don't believe you, Michael. You're only making it up so you don't have to learn."

"No." Michael was hurt. "I'm not!"

He came closer.

"I was in the street, and there was a 'bank'. And then there was this big building. And it said 'Palace Hotel'. And I could read it all!" Michael was enthusiastic about his achievement now.

Ben smiled, proud of the boy. _From now on it would be child's play to teach Michael!_ He knew from experience that all that was needed for learning was the proper motivation.

 

~~~

 

"Lilly, please..."

But Johnny's attempt at making love was rebuked - again.

"No! Not until you go to San Francisco and bring him home."

"You are childish! Your father sent a letter telling us his address, so we know where he is and can reach him. He's not coming back."

Furiously, Lilly turned away.

With a mounting feeling of desperation Johnny looked at his wife's back. _Was she aware of how close he sometimes was to riding into town and letting off his steam in the saloon? - Probably not. But if she were, would she even care?_

 

~~~

 

"You are silent, Benjamin," Jenny observed.

"Who? Me?" he answered, turning around. He was standing at the window observing the people in the little street. Jenny had been watching him for quite some time.

"You've been silent a lot, lately," she added. _Yes, he had been silent. Silent and brooding, but also edgy. As if there was something going on inside of him that was about to burst like a volcano._

"There's not much to say," Ben said in answer to Jenny's remark. "And there's not much to do, either," he continued. "Back home..."

He broke off. _Home was here now._ But Jenny had picked up on the word. She knew it hadn't just been a lapse of the tongue.

"Back home on your ranch, you'd be busy now, wouldn't you?"

He nodded, then turned towards the window again. _She had to get him out of this mood._

"What would you do?" she asked him.

They shared a silent look. Ben knew that Jenny was trying to make him talk. _Perhaps that wasn't such a bad idea._

"That time of year the foals are weaned and branded, and the youngsters are prepared for work. Always something to be done on a ranch," he ended lamely, not feeling comfortable enough to speak in his mood.

_Not having to get up early, not having to work hadn't turned out as much fun in the long run as he had thought. He needed something to do, and sitting in a club with men smoking and talking politics just wasn't him. There must be something more worthwhile doing in a city like San Francisco. But what?_

He caught Jenny's look. She was waiting on him to elaborate. _But how could he explain?_

"Those meetings with the men in the club just don't make much sense. They never get anything done."

Jenny nodded. Mrs. Wormwood had once said something similar; about her knitting producing a warm shawl and Jenny's charities not really making a difference to the lives of the people they were supposed to help. _But was that all there was to his restlessness? Or was it more?_ While her stomach clamped with fear at the thought of him wanting to leave her, she knew she just _had_ to confront him, _had_ to find out.

"You feel like you are wasting your time, don't you?"

Ben nodded. _She understood. She always understood. There was no woman who knew him as Jenny did._ He realised it was a relief not having to explain himself, being understood - and accepted, no matter what.

"It's not just that, Jenny. I miss the land, too. The meadows are green now, there are mountains in the distance, and you can see for miles. Here in San Francisco there are only buildings. I feel... I don't know."

"Caged."

Just one word, but it hit the nail straight on the head.

"You miss them, don't you?" Jenny continued, "Your horses. And your family, too."

He didn't answer her question, but his gaze bore into hers, serious, almost brooding. _Her voice had taken on a strange tone. Was she scared he would just go and leave her behind?_

 

_She had been dreading this moment. The moment when he came to understand that what she had to give wasn't enough. That his life lay somewhere else._

For a moment Jenny wondered if there was anything she could say or do to make him forget his longing.

_No. She couldn't tie him down. Not Benjamin. She hadn't used the word 'cage' lightly. Benjamin wasn't made for a cage. He was like a wild eagle, not a canary. She had to let him out. And even though she dreaded that he would fly away and never come back, she still had to set him free._

"Why not visit them?" she asked, hoping he couldn't detect that her throat was so constricted she felt like suffocating. Jenny was sure; once he was with his family again, he wouldn't return to San Francisco. It wouldn't be a 'visit' as she had suggested. He would turn his back on the city life he had. The best she, Jenny, could hope for was being allowed to accompany him. _But what if he didn't want her to come along with him?_

For a moment her heart hammered wildly in her chest. She couldn't face an existence without him! _She only hoped he would take her with him; and once they were on the ranch he would get used to the idea of having her living with him..._

 

 _A visit home!_ Ben could see what it had cost her. _She wasn't a country girl, and the trip would be log and arduous for her in the summer heat. But she didn't want him to go alone, didn't want him to leave._

_A few weeks on the ranch, and then back to San Francisco for autumn and winter - perfect. Perhaps by then the ships and with them his profits would have arrived, and he could finally begin to pay her back for having lodged at her place all this time; begin to take care of his woman properly._

"Summer's a good time to be there," he told Jenny with a sparkle in his eyes. She rose when he approached and he took her hands in his. "The foals are five, six months now, ready to be weaned. The youngsters are play-fighting and showing their promise. You'll love them, Jenny."

Jenny's eyes filled with tears. _He would taker her with him! It was all that mattered._

 

Two days later Ben sent a telegram to Indian Springs informing Lilly and Johnny that he and Jenny were on their way to the Horseshoe Ranch.

 

~~~

 

"They are wonderful, Benjamin!"

Ben stopped the wagon and looked over the Northern Meadow where Johnny had put the mares and their foals. They were quite a picture and - as always - Ben was captivated. A look at Jenny revealed that she was charmed as well.

"Wanna see them up close?" he asked, and when she nodded he drove the wagon to the fence and helped her down.

As Jenny let her eyes roam over the animals, Ben moved behind her, put his arms around her waist, und pressed his cheek against hers.

"Like it?" he asked.

"Even more than the horses," she whispered. He smirked. _His question had actually been about the animals, but being so obviously preferred to them... well, it just made him feel good._

 

Johnny had come to check on the mares and foals when he spotted the wagon and the two people standing at the fence. He was relieved when he recognised Ben. Lilly had developed into a terrible nag ever since they had received Ben's letter months ago, and not even the telegram he had sent announcing his return a week back had mollified her. Although he didn't know Jenny yet, he pitied her; she was heading for a storm in the shape of his wife Lilly.

Johnny watched as Ben, absent-mindedly, ran his hand over Jenny's hip. He had always known that his father-in-law was a deeply emotional and loving man - in spite of the intimidating reputation of his past. It was obvious in the way he handled his horses. As he was watching the couple standing at the fence, it dawned on Johnny that Ben had changed. He seemed more relaxed. No, at peace with himself. And the best thing for Johnny was that it wasn't Lilly Ben held in his arms!

Johnny watched Ben raise his arm and point to a certain animal, then whisper something in the woman's ear, and she laughed aloud, tilting her head back. Ben lowered his face and kissed her throat, then he turned and locked her in a lover's embrace and a passionate kiss... only to rest his forehead on hers afterwards - a ritual, obviously, and a perfect picture of warmth and peace.

It was then that Johnny understood that Ben wasn't a threat to him any longer; he had found his own love!

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Candy Shop is a respectful nod to Michael Brandt and Derek Haas who wrote about it in an early version of the film script "3:10 to Yuma".


	16. Jenny on the Horseshoe Ranch

"Welcome home!"

Jenny turned and saw a handsome young man dismounting and approaching them with a wide smile on his face.

"Johnny!"

The two men shook hands, and for a moment Jenny compared them; Johnny, young, slender, handsome. Not yet thirty, full of promise, with an open and honest look and a somewhat shy smile. And then Ben; sixty-five, past his prime, but still so masculine, so dominant, _so much man._

"Jenny, this is my son-in-law Johnny Ryan. Johnny, Mrs. Jennifer Carson."

Johnny took off his hat.

"Mrs. Carson. Good to have you here." His smile was so friendly and likeable, and his words were so earnest Jenny knew they weren't just a social convention. Johnny was really glad to see them both.

She extended her hand to him.

"It's good to be here," she answered. "And it's a pleasure to meet you and your family."

_That woman wasn't only beautiful, she was a real lady._

Johnny was quite smitten seeing Jenny up close. He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it, making Jenny quite self-conscious; from him and in this place she hadn't expected it.

"Hey, hey," Ben interfered, "No use getting out your manners, boy. This girl is _mine._ " His arm snaked around Jenny's shoulders and he hugged her to himself while his eyes twinkled mischief at Johnny.

Johnny laughed good-naturedly. "I'll keep it in mind." He put on his hat. "Shall we go?"

 

Ben's eyes had roamed over the horses, and he had spotted one he hadn't expected.

"What's Fetlocks doing her?" he asked Johnny.

"Well, you were away. And there's nobody else riding her. She missed you, and I didn't want her to be in the corral all the time. So I put her out with the other girls. She's probably too old to get with foal again, but this way she has company."

Ben nodded. It made sense. But their talk hadn't made any sense to Jenny.

"'Fetlocks'?" she asked.

Ben pointed to one of the horses. Jenny was confused.

"Which one do you mean?"

Ben only smiled and whistled. Jenny saw a black horse raise its head. When the horse spotted Ben, it gave a whinny and trotted over to where he stood.

Jenny shot a look at Johnny who just grinned. He knew the ritual that was about to enfold.

The horse walked right up to Ben and snorted.

"Hello, pretty girl," Ben said softly, stroking the horse's muzzle, face and neck with practised movements. The mare nuzzled at his beard and neck while Ben continued to pat her.

"You've grown old, girl," he then observed, touching her face where more and more white hairs showed.

"How old is she?" Jenny asked. Ben had to think a while.

"Older than Lilly," he then answered. "Fetlocks was born the year before. So she's... what... twenty-two now."

"Yeah, she deserves to enjoy life. And she likes the other mares. They get along well," Johnny observed. Ben nodded to this.

"Looks like I have to find myself another horse, now," he said to Johnny.

Jenny observed Ben caressing his mare. The mare hung her head and relaxed as he scratched all over her neck in a steady and massaging movement. When he reached a particular spot, she snorted again but didn't move. Ben just smiled, and Jenny understood that the man who was so tender with her had learned to be this way from animals, not people.

Ben caught her look. "Something wrong?" he asked frowning.

She shook her head. Tears were in her eyes. Ben tenderly raised her chin to make her look at him. "You sure?"

"I'm sure," she said. "I'm just jealous."

A light of mischief glowed in Ben's eyes as he bent to whisper in her ear, "then I'll have to make sure tonight I'll scratch your neck, too."

 

 

As the wagon entered the courtyard, Jenny experienced a déjà-vu; the house, the barn and the men's quarters had all been there twenty-five years ago. Some buildings had been added over the years, but the biggest change to the place was that everything was brimming with life; horses were all around, and men tended to them. Lots of men. When they saw their boss return, they waved or came over to greet him. Ben got off the wagon and shook hands.

"Hey, Johnny, look who's here," Johnny Ryan exclaimed suddenly, and Jenny saw a boy of four run over and into Ben's arms.

"Hey, Johnny, how are you, boy?" They hugged and Little Johnny immediately filled Ben in on the state of things.

"I can ride now. And I've got a pony all to myself."

Ben shot a look at his son-in-law. Johnny just shrugged.

"Well, he's always running into the stables where the stallions are, and I wanted him out of the way."

Ben laughed and put Johnny down.

"Looks like we have to go riding together soon," he said, and the boy beamed a bright smile at him.

Jenny was still sitting on the wagon, taking it all in. _Twenty-five years ago she could have become a part of this. Instead she chose to leave for a big city where life was comfortable but also shallow._

"Jenny..."

Ben stood in front of her waiting to help her get off.

 

The moment she stood and brushed the dust off her dress, Jenny saw a pretty young woman come out of the house.

"Daddy!" she cried and hurled herself into Ben's arms who hugged her tightly.

"Hello, Little Flower." His daughter hugged him back as if he had just returned from the dead.

Johnny cast a look around. He didn't see his daughter.

"Where's Rachel?" he asked Lilly.

"I've put her in the pen."

"Again?"

"Well, she's running all over the place, and I don't have the time to run after her."

Johnny grimaced and made for the house while Lilly turned to Jenny.

"Welcome, Mrs. Carson. It is very nice of you to visit."

Jenny was slightly taken aback by the words. _'Visit'. It almost sounded as if she were to leave again after having had tea._ A sudden panic seized her at the thought; she became aware of the fact that she didn't really know what she would do should Ben decide to stay here for good...

 

When they all stepped into the house, Jenny felt as if entering foreign territory; nothing reminded her of the nearly empty abode of a bachelor she had visited once. Instead it was full of the countless things that made up a family's life; clothes handing or laying aside waiting to be mended, tools not yet packed away, the children's toys scattered about on the floor...

Johnny had lifted his daughter out of her pen and put her on the ground. The passing months could best be seen in the growth of the foals and in the progress of Baby Rachel. On not-too-steady legs she walked around, clinging to the leg of her father who pointed her into Ben's direction.

"Look who's here," Johnny said to her, and Rachel looked at Ben.

A wide smile spread on Ben's lips as he saw how much the little girl had grown. "Hey, baby. You look gorgeous," he whispered, and Jenny saw his eyes grow moist and love appear in them. She smiled softly. _This was her doing, her victory._ Jenny watched as Rachel let go of her father's leg and slowly wobbled over to Ben.

He hunched down and stretched out his arms.

"Come here, Little One," he encouraged  her. It was quite a way from her father's leg to the safety of her grandfather's arms, and Rachel grew uncertain. But Ben's eyes never let go of hers.

"Yes, come on," he nodded, his eyes fixed steadily on hers. Rachel's little arms waved in the air as she tried to find her balance, and Ben's steady gaze gave her the encouragement she needed for each next step until - finally - she was tumbling into his arms. He hugged and cuddled her, and she cooed and gurgled happily.

"That's the first time she's walked that far," Johnny said, proud of his little daughter. Ben handed her over to him, and Johnny hugged her, then pretended to drop and catch her just in time, until her shrieks filled the house.

"Alright, enough," Lilly finally said. She had set the table.

"It's time you took the baggage into the bedrooms upstairs, Johnny. I'm sure Mrs. Carson would like to freshen up before dinner. I'll show you your room, Mrs. Carson," she then said to Jenny turning towards the stairs.

Jenny nodded and wanted to follow Lilly, but Ben's hand on her arm stopped her.

" _Her_ room?" he asked Lilly. She nodded. Ben's eyes turned serious. "Lilly, Jenny's sleeping in my arms, nowhere else."

A warm wave washed over Jenny at his words. _Had she ever felt so safe? So loved?_

Lilly didn't think the same. She knew she couldn't take on her father. But she needed to find a way to make this woman understand her place in this house. And her place was certainly _not_ in her father's arms!

"If you say so, Daddy," Lilly retorted.

"Come," Ben said, taking Jenny's  hand. "I'll show you. I need to freshen up, too."

And together they climbed up the stairs and vanished in his bedroom.

 

 

After dinner, the children were put to bed and the adults sat around the fireplace. Ben told of his trip, but his quest that had taken him from Leadville to Dodge City, on to Bisbee and Contention was put aside in a few sentences. And he never once mentioned the small town of his birth and the three days he had spent there.

When he told about San Francisco, he spoke of the sights, the buildings, and the things one could do in such a big city. He mentioned the gambling emporium and the restaurants, but Jenny was acutely aware of the fact that he didn't touch upon the real life they had lived there during the last months.

Ben never once mentioned his business endeavours. He didn't let them know about the friendship he had struck up with Butterfield, and he didn't even tell about Michael the flower boy. When it would have been appropriate to admit to the fact that he appeared in San Francisco's society circles under his real name, Ben Wade, he omitted this, too, and again Jenny became aware of how reclusive a man her Benjamin was even with his own family, and how close he held her to his heart to have taken her into his confidence.

In all the time, Lilly avoided looking at Jenny or comment on her remarks. It was done subtly, but Johnny - sensitive to Lilly's attitude during the last months - noticed it easily. He wasn't sure, though, if Ben noticed it as well or how he might feel once he became aware of it.

 

It was late at night when they finally went to bed.

"I hope you will enjoy the countryside here, Mrs. Carson," Lilly said. "Having lived all your life in a city I guess our life must seem pretty boring to you."

It was the first time Lilly had addressed Jenny, and Jenny didn't know what to make of her remark.

"Not at all, Mrs. Ryan. You live in a wonderful place here. I am sure I shall enjoy myself very much."

"In the fall we get cold winds. You probably won't enjoy this too much," Lilly said, then added, "...if you're still here then."

Johnny shot her a warning look, but Lilly wasn't paying attention. Jenny had blushed slightly at Lilly's challenge. _Or was it one? Perhaps that was just Lilly's way of talking and she, Jenny, put too much meaning into each and every word._

 

Ben's hand closed over Jenny's and he passed her on the stairs, dragging her along with him. She cast him a quick look but his face was calm. He, too, had heard Lilly's remark but didn't react to it in any way. Obviously, there was nothing to it. Jenny took a deep breath. _She was tired and exhausted from their journey. She mustn't be so touchy._

 

 

 

  


	17. A serious conversation between father and daughter

Ben woke at dawn. Jenny was still deeply asleep, and for a moment he enjoyed her smell and her softness. Then he rose without a sound.

 _Yes, he had been right._ Johnny stood in the kitchen making coffee, and in the high chair beside the table, strapped securely, was Baby Rachel.

"Morning, Johnny," Ben drawled.

"Morning." Johnny smiled at seeing him. _Lovely woman or not; old habits die hard._

Rachel gave a gurgling sound.

"Good morning, Little One," Ben walked over and kissed her hair. "You up already?"

"She always gets up with me," Johnny said. Although Rachel was sleeping the night through now, whenever she heard her father stir and get up in the morning, she would raise her arms for him to pick her out of her cot.

Now she raised her arms towards Ben.

"You wanna get out of this?" Ben asked her, and when she looked at him imploringly and crooned in her baby-voice, he heaved her out and sat down with her on his usual chair. Johnny put a cup of warm milk in front of Rachel, then he poured two cups of coffee.

"Wanna have breakfast, too?" he asked Ben.

"Nah... I'll wait for Jenny."

"She still asleep?"

"Yeah. Journey's been pretty long, and she was exhausted."

Johnny nodded. _And Lilly's welcome hadn't been easy either,_ he added in his thoughts. _Jenny had taken it admirably - quite a woman, Ben had there._

While Johnny stirred his eggs, he cut up an apple for Rachel and put the pieces on a plate.

"Here, sweetheart," he said, but his daughter was quite taken with Ben. She had all but forgotten her grandfather, he had been away too long. And the man who had left months ago hadn't been too attentive to her in the first place.

But the man she had met the evening before who cuddled her so much was quite to her taste. Her little hands explored his beard, and she stretched and bent in his arms to bring her face close.

Ben complied and held her while rubbing his beard over her face and neck, and she giggled and gurgled.

"Like my beard, do you?" he murmured as Rachel snuggled up to his face again and again.

"Tell you what, Little One," he drawled with that seductive touch he kept for women. "All the ladies do."

Johnny laughed at that. He sat down opposite them and started eating, observing his father-in-law and his little daughter.

Ben prodded Rachel to eat her apple. After a few pieces she turned to look at him and decided Ben needed to eat, too. She started feeding both of them - two pieces for herself, one piece for Ben, one piece for herself, two, no three pieces for Ben. And another one. Soon the plate was empty, and Ben cuddled her some more.

"You are a sweet girl," he said into her hair, "I sure wouldn't mind seeing another dozen of you."

"You won't," Johnny said from the other side of the table. His tone of voice made Ben listen up.

"Why not?" He fixed Johnny with one of his piercing stares.

Johnny shrugged his shoulders.

"I wanted another child, but Lilly said no. Said she doesn't want to go through it all again."

"Maybe it's too early," Ben said, "Rachel is still pretty small."

"Nah," Johnny shook his head. "She said no more big belly ever, no more childbirth, no more trouble."

"Those two are 'trouble'?" Ben asked incredulously.

Johnny sighed.

"And no babies also means..." _No love-making._ But he swallowed the word. It wasn't really something you discussed with another man, was it? But then, he had nobody to confide in. And Ben had understood.

"You aren't sleeping with each other?" Johnny kept his eyes on his plate, but it was answer enough.

"How long has this been going on?" Ben asked.

 _Ever since you sent your letter,_ Johnny wanted to say but didn't. In the beginning things had been alright even with Ben gone, but once Lilly had held his letter in her hands saying that he wouldn't come back, she had changed. For months Johnny had been trying to figure out what was wrong.

"A few months now," Johnny answered Ben's question.

He had always known that Lilly and her father were close. But he hadn't counted on Ben being more important to her than he, Johnny, and her children.

"But even if she doesn't want any more children, Johnny... there's precautions."

"Precautions? What do you mean?"

_Nah, Johnny wouldn't know. He hadn't been brought up like this, and he had never frequented brothels and acquainted saloon girls like Ben had._

"I'm not sure if Lilly ever spoke with Mattie about this," Ben said. "She was still a girl when Mattie died. But women have ways to protect themselves so they won't get pregnant."

"You mean, even though you...?"

Ben nodded.

"Lilly never said so - I'm sure she doesn't know," Johnny said somewhat lamely, and he and Ben were thinking the same thing. Lilly wasn't above manipulating and cheating when she wanted to gain an advantage. In this she was the true daughter of her father. She might know something important and at the same time prevent Johnny from knowing simply to control him.

"I'll talk to Jenny," Ben said feeding Rachel the last of her milk. "Maybe she and Lilly can have a talk."

Johnny smiled at his naivety. Or maybe blindness. Ben loved Lilly so much he readily overlooked flaws in her character. _Lilly hated Jenny, although she had kept her feelings on a tight leash so far. But having Jenny lecture Lilly about something as intimate as sex and childbirth was pushing Jenny in at the deep end._

"That's _not_ a good idea, Ben," Johnny said.

At that moment Lilly came out of her bedroom.

"Good morning," she exclaimed with a radiant smile, and the two men watched as she came down the stairs; a young, beautiful woman, full of life.

 

"Must be off..." Johnny said lamely. He rose and he and Lilly kissed - a lifeless, routine kiss that was more show than an actual connection, a kiss that demonstrated clearly that things weren't too well between them.

Ben frowned as Lilly fetched a cup to pour herself a cup of coffee; she didn't seem to mind.

"Lilly..."

"Yes, Daddy?"

A bright smile directed at him. She was glad to have her father back and all to herself the first morning after his return.

"Johnny's been telling me that you don't sleep with each other."

Lilly's face fell. She turned and rummaged in a drawer looking for a spoon.

"How long's this been going on, Little Flower?" Ben asked, using the term of endearment for her that he had used all her life.

"It's no big deal, Daddy," Lilly answered.

"No big deal? Not wanting your husband to touch you? Lilly, I remember how you two used to be before you got pregnant with Rachel. Moment I turned my head you were all over him. Sometimes I didn't dare go into the barn or back into the house for fear what I might disturb."

It was meant to make her laugh, but Lilly just shrugged. Ben couldn't understand it. _What had happened?_

"So, now you don't want your husband to touch you, Lilly?"

"NO!"

"Why not?"

"I don't wanna get pregnant again!" Lilly screamed. "You are a man, you don't understand this."

They looked at each other. Lilly knew well what type of man Ben was. After all, he had stood by her during her first pregnancy. But she was serious about this, and Ben could see it, too. He nodded slowly.

"Explain it to me, then," he said softly.

His softness unarmed her far more efficiently than anything else could have done.

Lilly looked at the cup of coffee in her hands when she explained.

"Everybody things being pregnant is the normal way to be for a woman. As if she should be pregnant all her life!"

Already, she got worked up over it, but  then she usually did over things that touched her deeply. Ben knew this. Lilly sat down at the table.

"Daddy..." she looked at him intensely, "your body isn't yours when you are with child. You get sick, you get tired, you are hurting. You can't eat properly. And everybody expects you to be over the moon. Ooooh... I'm pregnant again! How wonderful!"

When Lilly had finished her tirade, she set down her cup and buried her face in her hands and a moment later Ben heard her sob.

But when, before, her tears had always served to mellow him, they didn't work their magic any longer. Baby Rachel squirmed in his arms to get his attention, and Ben turned to her instead of Lilly.

_Maybe she was right. Maybe a man didn't understand. It wasn't easy on a woman having a lot of children. As a man you only saw the work that needed to be done for the children that were around. But if it was as Lilly said, if bearing a child was hard on the body and the spirit... then she needed help._

"You know, Lilly... there are precautions," Ben said softly.

"Precautions?" Lilly echoed through her sobs, "what do you mean?"

"There are ways for a woman to lie with a man without conceiving a child."

Lilly stared at him incredulously.

"You never spoke with Mattie about this? Or with Mrs. Miller? Or any other woman?" Ben asked.

Lilly shook her head in disbelief. "How do you do this?"

Ben shook his head. "Don't know. I just know there are ways. You gotta talk to the saloon girls. They usually know."

"Daddy... I can't talk to whores about my love life."

Ben sighed. _She was still squeamish about talking to the girls in the saloon - as if they were some sort of second-rate women. Was it wise to recommend Jenny? - Probably not._ But then another person came to Ben's mind.

"You could talk to Sandy."

"Sandy?"

"Sandy Evans. William's wife."

Lilly thought about this.

Ben looked at his daughter. It was as if his absence had put enough distance between him and this place to see things more clearly. Or perhaps it was what he had found with Jenny. Knowing such a deep love he understood what he hadn't before; that it was not enough to 'be there' for your children and feed and clothe them. Or to 'work alongside your husband' when you didn't see and respond to the unique needs of the people you claimed to love.

Lilly was more than lacking in this regard - at least at the moment. He saw it clearly. _Perhaps,_ Ben mused, _he was to blame for this. Lilly had grown up in his care, and he had made sure she wanted for nothing. But she never had to be considerate, never had to put other people's needs before her own. It seemed it wasn't good education if a child was never made to be aware of the needs of others._

 

Lilly had seen his eyes darken at his thoughts. _The father that had returned to her wasn't the father she remembered. He had changed! And right now, he was condemning her; she could see it!_

"Go on, say it!" she screamed at him.

Ben took a deep breath.

"You are a spoilt brat," Ben said calmly, his words even more devastating because they were delivered in such a controlled voice. "I've watched you with Johnny and the children yesterday. You don't behave like a woman should. You don't behave like a wife should. And you don't behave like a mother should. These are your roles, Lilly. This is what you are."

It was too much. Never in all her life had her father disapproved of her so blatantly.

She was angry -but she was hurt even more. It took some time for his words to fully register in all their impact. When they did, she let her head sink on her arms on the table and started to cry.

Only when her sobs got worse and worse did Ben relent. He sat Baby Rachel in her high chair and heaved Lilly off her chair to take her in his arms.

Relieved that he was the loving, comforting father again, Lilly cried her fill until she calmed down. But she didn't dare to move for fear he would break their hug.

 

It was precisely at this moment that Jenny came out of the bedroom. From upstairs she saw Ben and Lilly stand in front of the table in a tight embrace, and it felt like a fist to  her stomach!

She couldn't see their faces or she would have seen the pity in Ben's eyes. As it was, she mistook their hug for the affirmation of a love that was certain to replace the relationship she had with him. Silently, Jenny returned to the bedroom in order to find her balance again.

The words of her friend Eleanor suddenly popped up in her mind: 'My Grayson said the man changed because of his daughter. She is more important to him than his life.'

_It was true. But would Lilly prove to be also more important than the life he could have with her, Jenny?_

 

 


	18. The boss of the Horseshoe Ranch

Later that morning Ben showed Jenny around.

They went into the barn where the sick animals were kept - but there were only two horses inside; one was a mare who had hurt her leg on a corral fence and would be taken back to the meadow the next day, the other was a young stallion who had had a serious fight with an adversary. His wounds were seen to by a new ranch hand Ben hadn't seen before. Matt who used to do this type of work, wasn't around. When Ben inquired after him, he learned that he was dead.

"How?" Jenny could hear how hoarse his voice had become. _Whoever this 'Matt' had been, Ben must have liked him._

"He was breaking in a youngster, one of those unruly ones," Johnny explained, his eyes glued to his toes before he fixed them on Ben again seriously.

"I told him not to take that one on. We have two hands who can break in horses just fine, and they are both younger. But Matt wouldn't hear of it. Said he wasn't old yet. And he had been breaking in horses all his life. I couldn't hold him back - you know how Matt was!" Johnny's voice sounded defensive.

Ben nodded. Yes. He knew. But that didn't make it any easier to accept.

_Matt had been with him almost from the start. He had been one of the best horsemen he had ever seen, with a natural instinct that made him understand the animals even when everybody else was at a loss._

Jenny observed as Ben stood lost in thought. There was an air of anger around him that she felt incapable of broaching. So she just stood and waited for him to make the first move. When Ben beheld her serious eyes, he shook his head. _No. He didn't want to talk, didn't want to think about it now._

Together they watched Johnny train one of the youngsters. A few times Jenny was startled when the animal got nervous and reared, but Johnny knew how to handle the young stallion. Calmly and patiently, he approached the animal again and again and calmed it down before resuming the lesson. After half an hour the youngster had understood what he was meant to do, and Johnny praised him lavishly. The horse was taken back into a corral and Johnny turned to the next horse.

Ben had meant to explain Johnny's work to Jenny, but he stayed silent. Jenny presumed  it was because of the loss of his ranch hand Matt, and partly it was. But there was more to it than that.

Over the past months Johnny had made many changes; work was distributed differently, and the men seemed happy with this; a new barn had been built to stock more feed and make space for more tacks; the ranch hands' quarters had been repaired and enlarged.

Ben observed Johnny with the hands. Their body language said they accepted him fully as their boss. Ben looked over to the corral where the youngsters waited to be trained. _He should be happy about this. After all, he always wanted Johnny to become the boss here. And yet..._

His deep breath came out almost as a sigh. _He felt...estranged. As if he didn't belong any more..._

Again, he gazed over the building for the men and the freshly erected barn. _In the short months of his absence, Johnny had made the place his own._

 

Jenny observed Ben. Nothing he did or said escaped her notice. She had spent the morning at his side, but she felt strangely apart from him and his life. Quite the opposite to how they were in San Francisco. Then she saw his look sweep over the buildings. _This was where he belonged, where his heart was. She would never be able to compete with this!_

 

They walked away from company and spent the whole day walking about the ranch and the meadows. Occasionally, Ben would explain something to her, but most of the time he was silent, letting his gaze sweep over the land that he had owned for so long.

And while Jenny felt an increasing panic at his silence, Ben desperately tried to find a feeling of 'home', a feeling that kept eluding him, no matter which memories he tried to conjure up.

And he was glad for the company of the woman beside him that meant so much to him.

They had long since passed the Northern Meadow when - finally, slowly - Ben began to get a handle on his emotions and calmed down. _He didn't belong here anymore. During the months he had spent in San Francisco, he had changed, he had moved on. The ranch wasn't where his heart was any longer. It belonged to another life now. San Francisco... and Jenny!_

 

 

That evening Ben intended to put his feelings for Jenny into action. All through dinner a smile had played around his lips when eyeing her up, enjoying the blush she couldn't hide whenever she had spotted his gaze on her.

Lilly and Johnny had hardly looked at each other, the conversation at the dinner table had mostly been between the two men. They had talked about horses and ranch management until Little Rachel had started fussing. Ben had hauled her on his lap, and they had cuddled while Little Johnny had eyed Jenny's chain and earrings all through dinner, amazed and awed by her. Very reluctantly, he had obeyed his mother and had dragged himself away from Jenny's sight.

 

As soon as Jenny had slipped out of her clothes that night, and before she could put on anything to cover herself, Ben's arms encircled her waist and he devoured her neck. She laughed. He could be so playful. It was a wonderful trait of his. She didn't continue laughing, however, when he proceeded to knead her breasts and nibble her neck.

He wouldn't allow her to wriggle out of his grasp. Instead, he gripped her harder, turned her to face him, and then simply pushed her on the bed following before she could make a move. Again, he kissed her neck and buried his nose in her hair, moaning in delight. _He just loved the smell of her hair!_

"Shhh, Benjamin, what if they can hear us?"

"Then maybe they get the lesson," Ben answered cryptically and proceeded to knead her breast until she arched into his grip and bit her lips to suppress a moan.

_How was she to keep silent? He knew her body so well, knew exactly what to do to make her scream..._

Ben enjoyed the situation enormously. He kept teasing her breasts, his hand snaking lower... slowly... slowly... Normally, it was enough to make her beg, but she kept silent. _Admirable. But she stood no chance._ Again and again, he proceeded to pleasure and excite her body, until she writhed and panted. Occasionally, she tried to stop his hand, but he smiled right into her eyes, and she knew that he wouldn't budge.

When she finally came, it was with a moan that simply couldn't be suppressed.

 

Naturally, Johnny and Lilly had heard it all; the shifting of bodies on the bed, the increased panting, the moan which announced Jenny's orgasm, and finally the rhythmic sounds of Ben thrusting into her and his groan when he found release.

But while Johnny lay in bed grinning, Lilly's face was aflame with anger, and the only thought she had was about how much she hated Jenny. _She had to make this woman leave the ranch!_

 

 

 

 

 


	19. Lilly takes action

The next morning Ben and Johnny rode out together. The foals needed to be branded, and Ben wanted to see how the new ranch hand Johnny had hired during his absence worked. They would be gone the whole day.

Jenny sat in Ben's bedroom reading. She had offered Lilly to help in the kitchen, perhaps cook some food California-style like they did in San Francisco, but Lilly had declined. Jenny wasn't sure if the young woman felt threatened by her or if she was trying to be polite to her by not making her 'guest' work - although Lilly's manner of 'politeness' felt a bit strange to Jenny's taste.

 

Jenny was so engrossed in her book that she didn't hear Lilly come into the room. Only when she glanced up from the page did she see the young woman standing in the door, eyeing her with a pensive look.

"I knocked," Lilly said. "You didn't answer." It almost sounded like a reproach.

"I didn't hear you," Jenny tried to defend herself, but Lilly's fleeting grimace seemed to say she didn't believe her.

Politely, Jenny rose, closed the book and put it on the drawer.

Lilly approached, her look changed from pensive to threatening.

"What did you have to do to lure my father into your bed?" she asked, taking Jenny completely off guard.

"What?" Jenny's voice was hardly more than a whisper. She had felt the hatred vibrate through the young woman's words.

"You heard me," Lilly continued. "So far Daddy's only bedded whores. I don't understand why he would want a prim and proper lady like you."

Jenny held her breath. _So Lilly didn't know of her, Jenny's, past. No, of course not. Benjamin would never betray her confidence._

Scared by the hidden meaning behind Lilly's words, Jenny felt like a rabbit in the face of its predator. _If Lilly ever found out that she, Jenny, had once been working in a brothel..._

 

Lilly could see that Jenny was scared of her, although why she shouldn't be wasn't clear. When she had entered her father's bedroom, her best hope had been that she might shake Jenny's security a bit. But somehow the woman in front of her seemed more vulnerable than she had thought. _Why was that? The way her father treated her, she must feel like the Queen of the World._

 

Jenny saw Lilly watching, waiting. _But what was she waiting for? And how to answer her accusation?_ Lilly's assault had been as unexpected as it had been irrational. Desperately, Jenny tried to find her footing, but Lilly didn't give her any time.

With deadly venom in her soft, purring voice - a purr not unlike her father's in similar circumstances - she said "My father belongs here - with us, and you and your city ways do not. Sooner or later he will see this for himself. The sooner you leave here, the better.

With this Lilly turned and left. Jenny's knees gave way and she sank down on the bed. _There was no way she could compete with Lilly, no way at all._

Shocked to the core by what had just happened, Jenny tried to think calmly about Lilly's words, tried to convince herself that Lilly was jealous and that, eventually, they might all live together peacefully.

But then she shook her head at the very absurdity of her own thoughts. _If she stayed here, it would only be a matter of time until Lilly found out the truth about her and her past. And that moment would be her last on this ranch. Just like so many years ago, she stood no chance to live a respectable life in this place!_

_But even if Lilly didn't find out just yet - was she right? Would it only be a matter of time when Ben would want her gone because she didn't fit into his life any longer? And if this were so, how much time did she have left to live with the love of her life, to see him, to hear him, to touch him?_

Just like twenty-five years ago, she lay prostrate on a bed, sobbing her heart out...

 

 

When she had cried her fill, Jenny pulled herself together and tried to take stock. _How much time she had left with Benjamin would probably depend on how uncomplainingly she adapted to her situation._

She heard the men come into the house, boisterous and exuberant. Lilly spoke to them, but Jenny couldn't make out any words. She heard Johnny's and Ben's footsteps. Both came up the stairs - probably to wash before dinner.

The door opened, and Ben stood there, all dirty and sweaty but with sparkling eyes.

"All done," he declared. He poured water into the washbowl and stripped, dropping his dirt-caked clothes on the floor. Jenny observed him as he washed himself.

"The new man is a good worker," he said talking to her over his shoulder. "Between the three of us, we had the young ones branded in no time. No need to go back tomorrow. It's all done!" He doused his face in water, it ran along his chest, and he quickly fetched the towel to dry himself, turning to her with a smile.

 _Yes, this was his world, this was where he sparkled into life. How could he be happy in a city like San Francisco?_    

Ben saw Jenny's face all serious and brooding.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Nothing." She shook her head to emphasize her words and to shake off her dark imaginings. Ben came up to her and softly took her in his arms.

"I'm sorry I haven't got enough time for us, Jenny," he said, "but I'll make it up to you, I promise. Tomorrow, we'll go into town and have us a good time. - What do you think?" he continued with a twinkle in his eye, "we could find out old room in the hotel, play a 'game'..."

Jenny laughed aloud at that. The way he stressed the word, it was absolutely clear which kind of 'game' he meant. _That was her Benjamin, the man only she knew about._

"Only if you've got a deck of cards, Mr. Wade," she replied in the same vein, and Ben threw his head back and laughed before gripping her and swinging her around.

 

The next morning Jenny rose while it was still dark. She had been awake all night thinking about Lilly's words, and it hadn't been easy to lie still and not disturb Ben while her thoughts had been whirling about in her  head like a thunderstorm.

Quietly, Jenny slipped out of the house. In the moonlight she walked down to the river thinking while the movements of her legs helped her thoughts along.

_Was she prepared to give up Benjamin and leave as Lilly wished her to do? And was Ben prepared to let her go? - No, certainly not! Or was it 'not yet'? How would it be after weeks and months, after lots and lots of Lilly's little ploys to embarrass her or to show her up? - And how was she to counter this? If she paid Lilly back in her own coin, she would antagonize Benjamin. And worse; she would hurt him. And even if she sat tight and didn't fight back, Lilly would find a way to diminish her in Benjamin's eyes._

Jenny groaned as she stood by the river. _There was no way out of this. She should go now, return to San Francisco and leave this ranch behind. If she did that, at least Benjamin's memory of her would be a good one. - And her own?_

Jenny imagined herself sitting in some train, headed for San Francisco, the city where she had spent so many years now. It held no appeal. Her little house by the ocean, Mrs. Wormwood, little Michael, and all the other known faces... even her dear friend Eleanor Butterfield - they were empty spectres compared to the reality of Ben's presence. _What was the point of returning? All she could do there was take up her walks to the docks again, imagining... NO!_

Overwhelmed by sudden pain, Jenny cried out. A few birds were scared by the sound and flew out of the trees, and there was some rustling in the grass... perhaps some small animal that scurried away.

She buried her face in her hands and started to sob. _Life without Benjamin wouldn't be worth living..._

After she had cried her fill, Jenny dried her tears and turned. Walking back to the house, each step she took strengthened her resolve; no matter what Lilly came up with, and no matter what heartache she would have to endure, she would continue to stay with Benjamin for as long as she could!

 

 

"So, what are you two planning on doing today?" Johnny asked at breakfast.

"Going into town. Can you spare the wagon for the day, Johnny?"

"Sure. No problem."

"Want us to get something for the ranch?"

"Nah... We stocked up last week before you came," Johnny said.

"We could use some more coffee," Lilly said. "Now that there's one more person at the table..."

She didn't complete the sentence, and Johnny felt there was an insult there. He just couldn't make out exactly what it was.

" _Two_ people," Ben corrected, raising his cup and toasting Jennifer who had withdrawn into herself at Lilly's remark. "You've got _two_ people more to feed now, Lilly. Want us to pay for food and lodgings?"

"Of course not, Daddy." It seemed as if Lilly wanted to add something, but she didn't.

"Well, I'll be off," Johnny said, "we'll be taking the mares and the branded foals to the Northern Meadows. And with Matt and Ron gone and the new man still watching the youngsters we'll probably have to go twice. Looks like I won't make it for lunch, Lilly."

Lilly nodded, then an idea struck her. When Johnny had gone, she got up, put her breakfast plate away and vanished in her room. A few minutes later she came down again, dressed in a riding skirt, blouse and vest. Ben looked at her inquiringly.

"I'll help them. Do you mind watching the children, Mrs. Carson?"

She didn't really address Jenny, she was merely throwing her the words while she made for the door. But then her eye fell on her father's face which was growing dark. _Of course. Her father didn't approve of having his day spoilt. But if he wanted to go into town he could still do it, couldn't he? Jenny, however, would be busy. Alas!_

Not for a moment Lilly assumed Jenny might speak up and refuse to watch Johnny and Rachel. And she didn't - much to Ben's astonishment and anger.

"Lilly," he stated.

"I am just helping my husband," Lilly preceded him, "as a good wife should do. Unless," she continued, "you want to go and help them yourself, Daddy."

Ben's eyes turned sad at the wilful misinterpretation of his words to her. But Lilly didn't perceive this. She looked at him triumphantly, sure in the knowledge that whatever he chose to do he and Jenny were pried apart for the day. But her father didn't rise to her bait. He had looked through her little ploy the moment she had uttered it.

"I haven't come back to work here, Lilly. I plan to go into town today. You think you must ride with the men to show off instead of being a mother and do what you should do, then go ahead." He lowered his head and cuddled and tickled Rachel again who promptly giggled and turned in his grip.

His words were a bucket of cold water in Lilly's face - but she wasn't prepared to give in. _Once Jenny was gone, the world would be alright again. Jenny and her father didn't suit each other. Jenny just didn't belong in their world. She, Lilly, would be proven right of this in the long run._ She was sure of it.

Jenny, too, heard the insult that dripped from Ben's words, and she looked at him, surprised he would be so harsh with his daughter. But as usual, Ben's face gave nothing away. He just looked at Lilly, then turned to Baby Rachel.

 

Lilly cast a glance over her father.

_So he meant to go into town anyway. Well... somebody would have to watch the children, and this somebody was going to be Jennifer. After all, there was nobody else left._

"You'll find food in the storeroom. The children are used to having a proper lunch."

With this Lilly left, her victory secured.

Little Johnny had finished his breakfast silently. He hadn't understood what was going on, only that his mother was gone. But Ben and Jenny were still here. His world was alright.

Ben kept playing with Rachel. After just a few days the Little One had gotten so used to him, she gurgled and her arms reached out for him whenever she saw him. One of her favourite pastimes was to snuggle up close to his face and rub her soft cheeks on his beard. He would try to evade her which, in turn, made Little Rachel all the more eager to rub cheeks. Then Ben would hold her in a tight grip and rub his beard all over her face and throat, and Little Rachel would shriek with delight. She did so now, and Jenny couldn't help smiling at the two who were totally engrossed in their game.

Outside, the sound of horses leaving could be heard.

"Well, Johnny," Ben said after the sounds had gone, "what do you think if we go down into town to see Mrs. Miller? Ask her for a few cookies and some candies?"

"Yes!" Johnny was all for it.

"We are going anyway?" Jenny inquired.

Ben's look at her was pure innocence.

"I'm not having my daughter ruin our day, Jenny. We'll take the children with us, and get us some fun." And the smile he gave her was the smile of desire and love that she knew so well, the smile that she had fallen in love with and that hadn't aged a day.   

  

 


	20. An outing into Indian Springs

"Now, you'll take Baby Rachel, and Johnny will sit with me," Ben said after he had installed everybody on the wagon.

Jenny was apprehensive, but the baby accepted her without a problem. Ben hauled Little Johnny up and made him stand between his knees.

"Do you want to take the reins, Johnny?" he asked.

"Can I?" Johnny beamed at him, and his little hands tried to hold the leather reins. Ben laughed and helped him get it right.

"See? Like this. You have to hold onto them, Johnny. Otherwise the horses will run away with us and we will end up in Arizona."

He winked at Jenny when he beheld her sceptical look; _a small boy of four trying to steer a wagon?_

But nothing happened.

"Now you have to make them go," Ben said, well aware that Johnny hadn't a clue what to do.

"Heeey!" Johnny called out, but the horses just stood calmly, their tails swishing, fending off some flies. Ben smiled at Jenny.

"Nothing happens," Johnny complained.

"What do you do to make your pony go, Johnny?" Ben asked.

"I kick it," Johnny said.

Ben laughed.

"Here it's a bit different. You don't sit on the front horse and kick it. You have to talk to it," Ben said. Then he clicked his tongue and gave a sound, and with his hands moved the reins. The horses started to walk.

A few steps, and then another sound and gesture from Ben made them trot. Johnny was spellbound.

"Wow..."

"Now all you got to do is steer them," Ben said, winking at Jenny again.

She shook her head smiling as Baby Rachel found out that she could actually undo Jenny's hair by taking out the pins.

 

"How beautiful!" Jenny exclaimed. They were halfway into town; the road was running along one of the rivers that were feeding the ranch's meadows.

"Wanna take a break here?" Ben asked. Jenny nodded.

"Stop the horses, Johnny. Pull at the reins," Ben said, and when Johnny tried his best but the horses wouldn't stop, Ben helped and added a deep 'Woah...' to bring the wagon to a halt.

Johnny ran off and Baby Rachel crawled on the grass, giggling whenever the grass brushed her face. Jenny wanted to tail her, but Ben prevented it with one of his passionate kisses that made her breathless.

"Haven't got any chance to do that on the ranch with all t hem people around," he murmured apologetically. Her hands stroked his beard, the tips of her fingers finding their way inside the collar of his shirt.

"Not too far, Johnny," Ben yelled at the boy who ran and jumped in the grass. A quick look towards Rachel assured him he was safe, and Ben lowered his head to touch his forehead to Jenny's closing his eyes and breathing deeply.

 

When they arrived in town an hour later, Ben drove straight to the grocery store. Little Johnny jumped off the wagon and couldn't wait for them to go inside.

Mrs. Miller welcomed Ben with one of her warm smiles. _My, my...the man still looked handsome at his age._

When she spotted Jenny, a frown settled on her forehead and Ben saw her scrutinize the stranger's elegant clothes. No doubt she was wondering who the lady was. Ben decided to end the suspense by sneaking his arm around Jenny's waist.

"Mrs. Miller," he said, "the young man here would like some candies." Johnny beamed at him and preceded Mrs. Miller to the candy jars. Another look towards the lady, but with an eager customer waiting for her to serve him, Mrs. Miller couldn't linger. She followed Johnny to the back of the store where the candy jars were and handed him a  huge paper cone. Then she took a small shovel and proceeded to pour candies from each jar he pointed at into the cone.

"And this, too," Ben added three apples to their purchase. "Oh, and some coffee."

"Mr. Ryan stocked up on coffee last week, Mr. Warner," Mrs. Miller said. Out of the corner of his eye, Ben saw Jenny's embarrassed expression as they both remembered Lilly's remark.

 

When they stopped outside, there were a bunch of boys playing catch.

Johnny eyed the children curiously, but he didn't make any move towards them.

"Why don't you go over and play with them?" Ben suggested with a slight nudge. Johnny looked up at him. Ben could see that he was tempted, but he was also shy. The boy was the only child of his age on the ranch, and he almost never came into town, so he hadn't made the town children's acquaintance yet.

"Just go over and ask them, Johnny," Ben said again, nodding at him.

Johnny swallowed and took a few steps towards the children. He wasn't sure yet. But when he turned Ben nodded encouragement again. Soon the children were all around him, eyeing him and particularly the candies in his hands. A few minutes later the cone was empty and Johnny ran off with the children, screaming and yelling like the rest of them.

Ben chuckled. "He didn't get to eat any of his candies. Got to get another bag of candies for him," he said and vanished in the grocery.

 

Meanwhile Jenny watched the people of Indian Springs go about their usual business. It was inconceivable to her how small the town was. There was the main road along which the major buildings were constructed and a few parallel roads, and some back alleys. Even after the drought when people had returned to Indian Springs, the little town had never grown back to its old size. The empty buildings had been made use of, but there had been no newcomers to build new ones. Indian Springs didn't have a railway station, and so any 'modern' lifestyle had passed it by. For someone like Jenny it felt as if Indian Springs was still stuck in the middle of their century.

 

"Wanna take a walk?" Ben asked behind her, a huge cone of candies in his hand and Baby Rachel perched on his arm.

Together they walked along the main road Jenny remembered from her first visit while Baby Rachel was trying to entice Ben into playing her favourite game; whiskerburn.

Further off they could see Johnny run with the children, playing a game of 'Indians against Cavalry'.

"Hungry?" Ben asked, but Jenny shook her head.

She stopped at a window in which hats were displayed. When she looked at the sign, it said 'Mary's Millinery'.

"Wanna buy a hat?" Ben smiled. Again, Jenny shook her head. She was reminded of the day when she had bought a hat to visit him on his ranch. _That had been before she had spotted Harcourt Wells - before she had learned she didn't have a future here..._

While they walked on and Jenny looked around, Ben observed her; the lady in the little country town. He thought of the first time they had walked along that very street after Jenny had come into town, and he had declared her the most sophisticated and most beautiful woman in town. _Well, she still was,_ he realized _\- at least to him. And the best bit was that he didn't have to court or impress her any longer; she was his. For good._

 

A while later Little Rachel became grumpy.

"She's wet," Ben states. Looking wistfully at the child in his arms he said "what am I going to do with you now, Little One? Strip you and put you through the horses' trough?" And his beard dove onto her face making her shriek.

A short look around revealed they were close to the hotel.

"Let's go get a room," Ben suggested.

 

After Rachel was clean again they sat down in the hotel restaurant to have lunch. Jenny looked around, and when she met Ben's eyes she smiled.

"It hasn't changed all that much," she said, and together they scrutinized the interior again which had become shabby over the years.

"I don't remember it much," Ben confessed, then added with a smile, "but I remember your dress."

A slight blush reddened her cheeks, and she lowered her eyes.

"You are even more beautiful now."

Her eyes held a healthy amount of scepticism.

"It's true," he stated. "All those years, whenever I thought of you, I always remembered the passionate woman. But now..."

He fell silent for a moment, not knowing how to phrase his thoughts.

Jenny played with her spoon; she felt shy all of a sudden.

"You know, the years have added something I can't name. You have grown more...not only more beautiful, but you are more woman now. More... I don't know." He shrugged his shoulders and shook his head, a soft, somewhat helpless smile graced his lips. "More of everything," he finally said.

Her eyes filled with tears at his confession, but before she could do or say anything Baby Rachel started to whine.

"This little girl needs to sleep," Ben said, and they rose.

They fetched Johnny who was still playing with the children in the street, and then repaired to their room. Baby Rachel was out like a light, and even Johnny fell asleep after a few minutes.

Tenderly, Jenny stroked the hair out of his face. _What a sweet boy. She had never missed having children. But then, except for her long-dead husband, she had never had a man to share her life and make children with in the first place._

_What if she had stayed with Ben in Indian Springs and raised a family?_

 

Ben observed Jenny silently. He knew what she was thinking.

"Come here, baby," he said softly and held out his hand.

Jenny squeezed his hand and looked at him, her eyes serious.

"What if I had stayed here in Indian Springs?" she voiced her thoughts.

"I'm glad you didn't", Ben said.

Astonished - and a little hurt - Jenny looked at him.

His other hand that had been stroking her hip softly, came around her waist and he drew her onto his lap. He meant to kiss her, but she resisted, not willing to let go of his eyes and wanting to understand.

"If you had stayed, your life would have been hard," Ben explained. "I've seen how fast farm women age. Their life is only work. They have their house, their children, their husband... And then they have more children. And more work. Before they know it, their bodies and spirits are used up, eaten up by the life they've led. I wouldn't have wanted that for you, Jenny. I'm glad you had San Francisco."

_San Francisco - a comfortable life devoid of love. A safe place in society with many people to see, but none of them really close. A life of pleasure, but without happiness._

Her eyes filled with tears, and Ben understood. But he had a point to make.

"Jenny, life with me would not have been all fun," he said. "There were some hard years, years when I had enough and wanted to leave. And," he added, "Knowing us, we wouldn't have had just one or two children, but a dozen." At that she smiled widely and nodded, her smile mirroring his.

"You might have died giving birth to a young one," he continued softly.

"What are you saying, Benjamin? That it is better not to have too much love because you might lose it?"

"No." He shook his head. "Life can be lost so easily at any time, it is best to grab it while it is here. - But I am glad you had good years in San Francisco. And, if you don't have enough excitement in your life," he added with a smirk, "Why not take care of an ex-outlaw and try making a good man of him?"

At that she laughed out loud, forgetting the sleeping children on the bed.

"Nobody makes 'a good man' out of you, Benjamin Wade," she purred. "You are beyond hope."

 

 

 

 

 


	21. Ben and Lilly

"Where have you been? It is late!" Lilly dashed at them when they entered the house.

Little Johnny who was holding fast to his second bag of candies stopped dead in his tracks.

"What's that?" Lilly asked, pointing to the bag.

"Candies..." He sounded mighty unsure of himself.

"Seven o'clock already," Ben said, "my, my, no wonder I'm so hungry. Dinner ready yet, Lilly?"

If looks could kill, Ben would have been dead. But he only smiled and handed a sleeping Rachel over to Johnny.

"Here... best put her to bed. She's been out for an hour now. Not even the road up here could shake her awake."

Johnny took his daughter and smiled down on her.

"Tired her out, did you?" he asked not expecting an answer. The baby was a dead weight in his arms. He laughed and took her upstairs.

 

"I need to freshen up before dinner." Ben turned towards the stairs.

"Was that _your_ idea to go out anyway and stay out so late? A day on the ranch isn't exciting enough for a city lady, is it?" Lilly spat at Jenny, her hand on her hips.

Ben's steps slowed to a halt. He turned to watch.

"Give me that!" Lilly tore the candies away from Johnny.

"And now go wash your hands! And what happened to your clothes? Did you roll in the dust?"

Little Johnny stood in front of his mother, his huge eyes matching the growing fear in his stomach.

"No," Jenny came to his defence. "He was playing with the children in town. It was a hot and dusty day. They all looked dirty when they went home. He washed his hands and face. But he could hardly wash his clothes, could he?"

Johnny edged closer to Jenny and she felt his little hand take hers tentatively. Reassuringly, her hand closed around his which was sticky with the candies he had eaten.

"Oh, so my little son cannot be cleaned while you still look the prim and proper lady?" Lilly spat at her guest.

Jenny felt tears prick her eyes. She could see that Ben had stopped on the staircase and was watching the scene. His look was serious. He was looking at her, a frown on his forehead. Jenny couldn't interpret the expression in his eyes. _Was it... reproach?_

She let go of Johnny's hand and, silently, made her way up the stairs and past him.

 

He followed her into their room. She stood at the dressing table, hanging her head, her hands pressed against her mouth. He could hear that she was suppressing sobs.

"Jenny. What is the matter? Tell me."

But she didn't. He took a deep breath.

"Ever since we stepped into this house you haven't been yourself. You have changed beyond recognition. You are no longer the woman I know."

 _There it was. He would tell her now that she didn't fit into their family, that she didn't belong here._ Jenny closed her eyes and took a deep breath to steel herself. _She wasn't ready for this!_

 

_No answer. She still didn't talk, still didn't let him know what he needed to hear. What else was he to do?_

Ben sat down on the bed, never taking his eyes off her face. She fought with herself, he could plainly see that. It took all her willpower to calm herself. _Why didn't she just fly at him and rage? Why did she hide her true feelings from him?_  

Suddenly, an unpleasant feeling of déjà-vu hit Ben.

_Just like Rachel. She, too, had evaded his questions, had refused to let him in. He had let her be, and they had just lived beside each other without any true connection._

_But Jenny wasn't Rachel!'_

He remembered only too well the love and the laughter they had shared back in San Francisco. _Damn, he wanted it back! This time, he wouldn't be put off, no matter what!_

He realized that he had never plainly asked her about her feelings, never made her explain to him why she didn't take a stand against Lilly.

"Why do you let her do it, Jenny? Why don't you fight back?" he asked softly.

She turned to look at him, her eyes full of tears she was trying to suppress. "Fight back?"

He nodded, astonished at her reaction. _She sounded as if the concept hadn't even entered her mind._

"Fight your daughter? Benjamin, how can I?"

_What? She couldn't fight Lilly?_

"How can you? Because she is offending you whenever she can. And she's been doing so from the first day you stepped into this house. Do you really think I haven't noticed how she tries to belittle you again and again? How can you let her get away with it?"

"But she is your daughter, Benjamin. You love her!" Jenny's anguish was obvious.

"What's that got to do with it?" Ben asked, but the moment he had uttered the words he understood; _she hadn't dared speak back at Lilly because she was scared it might affect his love for her, Jenny!_  

And thinking back on the days they had spent on the ranch so far, he realized that - again and again - Jenny had done her utmost to blend in and adapt to a life that was not hers. _And all for fear of losing him!_

 

He rose from the bed and took her in his arms. Desperate and tired, her head sank on his chest. The gesture confirmed his thoughts.

"Jenny, I love you. Nothing Lilly says or does can make me stop loving you."

She nestled deeper into his embrace.

"I missed you so much," he whispered in her hair. "All these years, ever since you left Indian Springs I missed you, and I didn't even know it. I only understood it when I found you again in San Francisco."

Only after he had voiced his feelings did the truth of them hit home fully. His hug almost crushed her, and his face nestled deeper into her hair taking in its familiar smell.

At this she let go and cried her fill in his arms while his thoughts raced ahead, trying to find a solution.

 

~~~

 

The next morning Ben suggested Jenny cook some California-style food for dinner, and when they inspected the larder found that some more ingredients were necessary. Johnny offered to drive Jenny into town to the grocery. It was exactly what Ben had hoped for; time to talk with his daughter.

Ben observed Lilly clean the dishes and put them away while he absent-mindedly cuddled Baby Rachel.

_How to broach the subject that was so important to him? How to make her understand that by treating Jenny the way she did she also rebuked him?_

_She could be stubborn, driving on and on into the hardest wall without considering the consequences. He would have to tread carefully._

 

A little sigh escaped him. He was fed up with goading people into doing what he wanted them to do. His easy dealings with Jenny had opened his eyes to the fact that it was possible to be open and honest and still get what you needed, simply because you were understood and appreciated.

_No. He wouldn't play cat-and-mouse with Lilly. He didn't want to any more. It was beneath both of them._

"Lilly, what do you make of Jenny?"

_Here it was, the question she had been dreading all along!_

_What was she to answer? The truth? Could she honestly say to him that in her opinion Jennifer Carson occupied a place that wasn't hers? That she was way too close to her father?_

_If she told him that he would stick with the woman out of stubbornness. She knew him. He might call her, Lilly, stubborn, but the truth was that he could outdo her easily once his mind was set on something._

_So, how to go about directing him to this insight? She couldn't manipulate him, not the way he could. But somehow she must convey to  him the importance of what she knew to be true!_

"Are you sure you want this woman around, Daddy?"

"Jenny? She does have a name, you know, Lilly." _'That woman'. It would seem Lilly needed more than a little convincing._

"I'm not asking you to love her like a mother, Lilly," he said calmly rocking Baby Rachel. "But she's here as a guest. Don't you think you should be more civil?"

 

_Even his talk had changed - probably because of this woman and her posh ways! Where was the father she remembered? And why didn't he call her 'Little Flower' any more? Since his return from San Francisco he had worked with Johnny, taken the children into town and spent more and more time with Baby Rachel._

_But she, Lilly, never seemed to be on his list of priorities. Was this because of Johnny and her quarrel with him? Would her father only relent after she had given in and slept with her husband again? And did he want her to have more children - one each year, like so many women? Was that why he cuddled Baby Rachel so often - more often than he talked to his own daughter?_

 

"Lilly, Jenny is important to me. Just like you are. Can't you make an effort to treat her nicer?"

"If you want me to, Daddy."

Her words were uttered a bit airily. It wasn't what he had hoped to hear, but he knew how hard it was for her to admit to errors or misbehaviour. _It would have to do._

 

"Would you like to go riding now, Johnny?"

"Yes!"

"Come on, then. Let's get your pony ready."

Johnny ran outside and Ben handed Rachel over to Lilly planting a soft peck on his daughter's cheek.

_Oh, how she wanted her father back! The father who had always approved of her independent ways. He had changed so much... he had become a wimp ruled by a woman who thought that silk dresses and posh talk could keep a man like her father happy. _No! She had to get him out of her clutches! The sooner this woman left the ranch the better!_ _

 

~~~

 

The next day Ben meant to take Jenny to a sumptuous picnic and leave the battlefield to Lilly and Johnny. After all, they had some talking to do, too. The moment they wanted to leave, Little Johnny ran out of the house and insisted they take him with them.

 

Far away from the ranch and any prying eyes they settled in the shade of a group of trees. After lunch Johnny ran off looking for grasshoppers and some excitement, and Ben and Jenny had the world to themselves.

Jenny sat with her back against a tree and Ben's head rested in her lap. It wasn't hot, a fresh breeze was moving the grass and there were numerous bees buzzing around in the air. Little Johnny was jumping around hopping after insects.

"Well," Ben started, "I can only hope that Johnny and Lilly make as good use of their time as we do."

They smiled at each other.

 _Would those two really make it up with each other?_ Jenny wasn't sure.

"Oh, she will," Ben said. "Lilly may be passionate, but she isn't stupid. And there are limits to Johnny's patience. I've seen it with the horses. He is the sweetest man, but cross him often enough and he can surprise you."

Jenny stroked through Ben's hair. It felt so good he closed his eyes.

"I talked to Lilly, and she'll treat you right from now on."

 

At that moment Johnny came back holding a somewhat crusted and wilted bouquet of wildflowers which he presented to Jenny.

"Thank you, Johnny. How nice of you!"

But the boy's look grew morose.

"What's the matter, Johnny?" she asked and Ben perked up.

"Somethin' wrong, boy?"

"Can you get up?" It was all Johnny said.

Ben got up, wondering what had happened and expecting Johnny to lead him somewhere, showing him something that had puzzled him.

But the moment he had risen from his comfortable seat, Little Johnny settled happily on Jenny's lap, hugging her to himself.

Ben's eyes grew wide. _He had just been tricked!_

Open-mouthed he stared at those two drinking in Jenny's pearly laughter. She hugged Johnny back giving the eye to Ben over the boy's shoulder.

Ben smirked.

"Aye, boy," he said, "there's nothing like lying in a woman's lap to keep a man's spirit up."

It was said with a wink to Jenny, and he had the satisfaction of seeing her blush a fierce red.

_Good to know that he could still heat her up like that. And the boy hadn't understood what it was all about, anyway, since he had been talking straight over his head._

 

When they returned from their outing that day they were all happy.

Upon entering the house, however, they saw immediately that things between Lilly and Johnny hadn't eased up.

 

 

 

 

 


	22. Ben takes action

"'A cat and a mouse, contrary to the custom of their kinds, become friends; such good friends that they decide to share a home. That they might have something to fall back on in time of need; they buy a pot of fat and hide it away in a nook of a church for safekeeping.'"

Ben came in from outside and stopped at what he saw; Jenny and Little Johnny were huddled close together on one of the comfortable armchairs. They were a picture of harmony.

Johnny lay across Jenny's lap and his little fingers played with her earring. He eyed Jenny's hair and his little hand itched to touch it.

 _Probably wondering if it is as soft as it looks,_ Ben thought. _It is, boy, it is,_ he added in thought, smiling to himself.

They had neither heard nor seen him. Nor had Lilly who was sitting at the kitchen table trying to thread a needle while at the same time using all the strength she had to block out the voice she hated so much.

 

"'After a short time, the cat tells her housemate that one of her relations has given birth and that the mouse's friend has been asked to be godmother. Instead of going to a christening, though, the cat goes to the nook of the church and eats the top layer of the fat in the pot. When the cat returns home, the mouse asks the name of the kitten. The cat replies 'Top-off'. The mouse remarks that she has never heard such a name...'"

Lilly's patience was used up. She threw her sewing on the table and rose.

"Get off, Johnny," she hissed to her little son who was too engrossed in Jenny's tale to even hear her.

Quickly, Lilly stepped closer and tore the boy's hand off Jenny's hair. "Don't you hear? Get off!"

Scared, Little Johnny clung to Jenny who automatically hugged him back.

"I want you gone," Lilly said to Jenny, "what do I have to do to make you understand?"

Ben saw Jenny open her mouth as if in defence, but then she thought better of it.

Jenny looked into Lilly's eyes and pity welled up in her. _Lilly did that because she hurt. It was so clear to see. She should talk to Benjamin about this, convince him somehow that he shouldn't confront his daughter, but instead reassure her of his love. Then, perhaps, Lilly could begin to see her, Jenny, as a guest rather than a threat to her father's love._

 

Ben left as quietly as he had come in. _Lilly wouldn't change, he should have known this. His daughter was an instinctive creature. Something in her perceived Jenny as a rival and she would always feel provoked by her and attack her, no matter what._

Ben walked into the barn. He fed and groomed the sick stallion inside who was glad for the extra attention.

_There was no point in staying, not with Lilly making Jenny's life miserable. Lilly wouldn't change, and he was tired of her constantly irritating behaviour, tired and too old to bother about teaching her._

Suddenly San Francisco and his life there with Jenny rose vividly before his inner eye and with it a feeling of homesickness, a longing for the harmony he had experienced there - harmony and also freedom!

_Yes, it was time to leave. As much as he had felt bored by its idleness on occasion, he was actually missing city life. The chance to just walk into a bookstore, or to visit a music hall when he felt like it, and best of all to just be with his woman without having to be considerate towards anyone else..._

_Perhaps those ships had finally arrived and with them his money. Then he could finally start treating Jenny to all the things he meant her to have. And if not, well, then there were two more possibilities that would give them a sufficient amount of money. One was a gamble, but the other was a dead sure thing..._

 

_~~~_

 

"I'll be away for a week or two," Ben announced the next morning. He looked at Jenny and could see her pale.

"Where are you going, Daddy?" Lilly asked but didn't receive an answer. Instead, Ben helped himself to another drink of water.

"Daddy, where are you going?"

This time, Ben looked at her but didn't offer an answer. They looked at each other a long time, Lilly expecting an answer and Ben trying to get a message across she obviously wasn't capable of getting.

Johnny's eyes were fixed on his plate; he was the only one who understood exactly what happened here; Ben openly attacked Lilly's imagined hold over him; he was no longer taking her into his confidence.

 

After breakfast Ben personally fetched Fetlocks and another horse as pack horse from the meadow. He filled his saddle bags with food and everything he would need for a few nights out. Then he took Jenny aside.

"I'll be back in about two weeks, perhaps earlier." When he saw fear in her eyes he continued, "I love you, Jenny. Never forget this."

At that he saw her face go soft and tears well up in her eyes. Tenderly, he took her in his arms and hugged her. "Don't be scared of Lilly. She can't harm you," he whispered before taking his nose out of her hair and kissing her soundly.

 

The following days were hard for Jenny. Lilly continued to spill her poison as best she could. Jenny's only stronghold were the words Ben had whispered in her ear and Little Johnny who had taken to her so much that they seemed to be together all the time.

Jenny read to him, and to get away from Lilly's influence, they walked to the river where they collected pebbles and played counting games. Jenny taught Johnny letters and words by writing them in the dusty earth, and Johnny fetched flowers for her from the meadow, after learning that the gift of bugs and worms wasn't quite the right thing to thrill a lady.

 

 

The second day after breakfast, Lilly saddled her horse and rode off.

It was more than two hours ride to the Evans farm. Sandy was in the front garden. The children were with Lucy, and Sandy was free to go about her chores leisurely.

When she heard a rider coming up to the house she believed it to be William and smiled. _Ah, stealing away secretly to spend a cosy afternoon again. So that was why he had smiled this morning when Lucy had collected the children._ But when Sandy turned she beheld a young woman.

"Mrs. Ryan."

Lilly heard the surprise in Sandy Evans' voice. She had only ever come to the farm once in her life, in her father's company.

"What can I do for you?"

Lilly hesitated a moment, and Sandy could see that it wasn't easy for her to speak.

"I've come to ask your advice, Mrs. Evans."

 

~~~

 

 _Yes, there it was. Twenty-two thousand dollars - the largest cut he had ever made on a robbery._ Ben smiled. _After all these years his money was still here. No, not his. Butterfield's money,_ he suddenly remembered.

The thought confused him; he had been robbing the railroad all his life, running through several gangs in the course of time. More than once, a member of his gang had mentioned how much easier it would be to rob a bank - but Ben had always refused to consider this. His sole targets had been coaches and representatives from the train companies that had emerged all over the West.

_Why this urge to rob the railroad?_

The face of his friend Grayson Butterfield rose before his eyes. Ben had always robbed an anonymous organization; he had never linked his deeds with a man's personal loss. But today, the rancher in him could understand how his constant robberies had threatened Butterfield's company to the point where even the exorbitant price of Pinkerton agents was an acceptable expense to get rid of his enemy and ensure the survival of his railroad.

_Trains... strange how they had dominated his life._

The sun was setting on him, but Ben sat in front of the money, pondering.  

_The little train station where his mother had left him behind; it was as if his robberies had been a revenge against the means of transportation... the transportation that his mother meant to use but didn't, and he couldn't openly hate her for leaving him behind, couldn't even face the truth of it all at eight years of age._

_Instead, he had taken his hatred out on the railroad, robbing and killing, on and on... year after year. Naturally, it never ended his pain. He might have gone on forever, had not his encounter with Dan Evans and his son William showed him what he was missing and opened up the road and the determination for an honest living._

 

A deep sigh escaped his lips as this final jigsaw piece fell into place. _No more robberies. There was no need for them any longer. And there had been no need for them for quite some time now._

He looked at the money in his hands.

_Nobody missed this money. It had long since been forgotten. And it would guarantee him and Jenny a good life. That was all it boiled down to, all that he now asked of life; a few good years with the woman he loved._

 

The saddle bags he had brought with him weren't big enough for all the dollar bills, and he had to stash some of them in his sleeping roll. They had a nest egg now, even if the ships he had invested in were lost.

 _Ben Wade, the outlaw turned businessman._ He chuckled. It really was a funny thought.

His eyes swept over the desert landscape of Arizona - the very state where  he had made his name. It had changed a lot; there hardly was free land any more. Nowadays even the sturdiest bushes and the meanest of soil was owned by somebody. Barbed wire had spread everywhere and with it the number of laws governing the rights and wrongs of people and their behaviour towards each other. Sometimes it seemed as if it had all turned into a tight web - throttling any individuality and any pioneering spirit that had made this country what it was. A web of rules and regulations regarding banking practices, land owning, cattle rearing, and even horse breeding. A web that he had begun to struggle with.

The setting sun cast its last rays over the land. _Might as well camp here, out of sight of farm houses,_ Ben thought and led his horses to a safe spot nearby.  

 

 

After another five days of riding through the countryside enjoying the company of his old girl Fetlocks, he finally reached the outskirts of his ranch. _His ranch? - More like Johnny's ranch now. And he deserved it after all the hard work he had put into it._

Just as he had done when he had left, he took a detour so nobody could find out which way he had actually gone to dig up his money, approaching his land from the Northern Meadow where the youngsters grazed.

Ben sat on Fetlocks and watched as two young stallions started a fight to determine their ranking. _That young black one was worth watching._

He chuckled as he became aware of his thoughts. _It didn't matter any longer. This was Johnny's task now. A task that wasn't getting any easier. Already the demand for horses was declining. In San Francisco there was even talk to replace horses with transportation machines - machines that could move all by themselves... 'automobiles'._

A sigh escaped his lips and he patted Fetlock's neck. _He wasn't sure this was a better way of moving. There was nothing better than the company of a good horse._

 

As Fetlocks trotted along the meadow leisurely, Ben was filled with a love for the place he had rarely encountered. Love and... pride. _Who would have thought that an outlaw who only took from other people could build up a ranch like his was?_   A bittersweet feeling of success and at the same time pain at leaving it behind overcame him.

The setting sun threw its colours lavishly over the sky, and Ben watched the changing light.

_He had had it all; as a young man he had had money, women, and a name that was feared. And then, later, after his life as an outlaw he had built up another name for himself with his passion for horses, a name that was respected. But he had had even more than that._

_He had raised two children, here, on this very soil, and best of all; he had found love. First with Lilly, then with Mattie, and finally with Jenny._

_Jenny..._

As Ben thought of her warmth flooded him. He took a deep breath.

_She didn't belong here. And the life he wanted them to have together didn't fit into his daughter Lilly's life. It was time to leave._

He urged Fetlocks to a canter, dragging the second horse along. With each stride Jenny's image grew brighter in him.

_She would be waiting for him. She wouldn't give anything away in front of Johnny or Lilly, but in the privacy of their bedroom she would tell him how much she had missed him. Tell him, and show him._

A soft smile graced Ben's lips. He had missed her just as much. But first of all he would have to summon Johnny and talk business with him.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fairy-tale in this chapter is "Cat and Mouse in Partnership" by Brothers Grimm.


	23. Going home

Johnny and Ben stood in the front door looking over the yard. Each held a glass of whisky.

"As soon as the money arrives, I'll send it to you," Johnny said. "All you need to let me know is where to."

"Bank of Wells Fargo, San Francisco, to the hands of Robert Henderson for the use of Ben Wade."

" _Wade?_ "

Ben nodded and took another sip of his whisky. "No more hiding, Johnny."

"You sure, Ben?"

Ben smiled. "It's okay. Don't worry."

Johnny nodded acceptance. Then he frowned. "When are you going to tell Lilly?"

They looked at each other. _Into the lioness' den?_ Ben smiled. _That was for the lioness' mate._

"How about _I_ tell Jenny, and _you_ tell Lilly?" Ben asked. "After all, ranch belongs to you now, Johnny. It's time you started acting like _the_ _boss..._ in every respect." 

His smile was smug. Johnny grimaced and, for a moment, closed his eyes as if in pain. Then he took a deep breath.

"Okay. Before dinner."

 

 

When Ben entered their room, Jenny was freshening up for dinner. Ben sat down on the bed and watched. He loved watching her, and she knew this and, in turn, enjoyed his eyes on her. He knew her routine, and as soon as she was finished he rose from the bed and leaned at the dressing table looking down at her.

"It's Autumn, Jenny. The leaves are all coloured. Soon it'll be cold."

She waited him out.

"Do you want to experience this here? Or do you want us to go  home?"

"Home?"

"San Francisco. You miss it, don't you?"

She was at a loss what to say and lowered her head. _Was she such a bad actress? She had to hide better then... and make him believe this was her life._

"Jenny..." He tugged at her hand to make her rise. Then he embraced her in this practised way of his; one hand around her waist, the other gripping in her hair, so she would have to look up at him while he spoke.

"I was gone because I got us some money. I sold the ranch to Johnny. Everything is settled. We can go home now."

"You sold your horses?" she whispered.

"To Johnny. He's going to send the money to Henderson's bank when he's got it. It'll be enough for us to live."

"What will Lilly say?" Jenny asked.

Ben frowned. "She won't like it one bit. Johnny is bound to tell her."

 

A scream coming form the kitchen confirmed his words. Jenny could feel Ben stiffen at the sound. His eyes became hard and he took her hand. Together they walked downstairs to meet Lilly.

"Nooo!"

When she saw them she rushed at her father.

"Daddy, tell me that's not true! You want to _leave_...?"

Jenny could hear the pain in her voice and see it in her face; her father wanted to desert her!

"Don't know what your problem is, Lilly," Ben said coldly. "It's always been a visit, hasn't it?"

If he had taken out a gun and shot her, Lilly couldn't look more surprised - and hurt. Jenny saw how her face fell and her eyes filled with tears. But a quick look into her, Jenny's, direction made Lilly's deep seated anger flare up again.

"So that's your plan, is it?" she spat at Jenny. "The moment he is back you use your body to make him do what you want, you whore!"

"NO!"

Faster than Jenny could comprehend Lilly's words, Johnny had jumped in front of his wife, raising his arms in an attempt to block Ben's attack. But Ben hadn't moved at all. Instead he tightened his grip on Jenny's hand reassuringly and kissed her temple. Then he let go and nodded to her to step back.

When he turned towards Lilly, his eyes were ice cold.

"Step aside, Johnny," Ben said quietly. His eyes were fixing Lilly. Johnny shook his head no.

"Johnny," Ben looked him straight in the eye, "Step aside. I want to talk with my daughter. You have no part in this."

Jenny had never seen Ben like this. Suddenly she was afraid for Lilly.

At Ben's words Johnny had frozen, but after a long look between the two men he lowered his eyes and arms and stepped aside. _This was between father and daughter, and it needed to be said... once and for all._

 

Lilly wasn't afraid of her father. Why should she be? She had always been the apple of his eye; she knew he could not hurt her. _But why did he want to leave? Where to? What for?_

They looked at each other and he could read her thoughts and feel her pain as easily as if she were speaking aloud.

_Ever since you came back I have tried to be your little girl again. But you have changed. You haven't let me come close; have shut me out of your heart. Where is your love for me now? It is Jenny who stands in the way! I only did what had to be done - remove my rival!_

 

His look was serious and his voice soft when he said, "Did you know it was Jenny who said we should come here and visit? If it hadn't been for her, we wouldn't have seen each other again, Lilly."

It took a moment for his words to register. When they did Lilly's expression displayed a pain that touched even Jenny.

Ben, however, remained absolutely calm.

"It has never been more than a visit, Lilly. My life is in San Francisco now."

"With her?" Lilly's voice was soaked in unshed tears.

"Yes," he answered quietly, "With Jenny."

At his simple, honest words the tears Lilly tried to fight escaped her and rolled along her cheeks. She clenched her fists in an attempt to control the pain that was tearing her apart - and also her utter helplessness. _How could she make him stay with her?_

 

As Lilly looked into her father's eyes, the world changed. Jenny and Johnny were gone, the room vanished, there were no sounds, no smell, and reality wasn't touching her any longer.

Just like they had done countless times during the years when it had only been the two of them, they communicated - and they didn't need to speak to do it.

Lilly saw her father's thoughts displayed in his eyes as if she were reading a book. In a sense it was easier for her to communicate with Ben like this, for if no words were spoken aloud, nobody could be witness to her demotion.

 

_I told you, Little Flower, didn't I?_

_I asked you to be nicer to her, and you said you would be. But you didn't keep your promise. Just like so often before, you thought I would give in. Give in because I love you and need you._

_But you are not the only one who loves me back any longer. Jenny loves me, too. And I don't need to give in to her again and again like I have to do with you. I don't need to be the strong one with her all the time, because she is my equal._

_She loves me, and I love her - what more can I say?_

Lilly took a deep breath. _Oh God, what was she to answer to that?_

 

"Why do you want to go away from me?"

Her words were so desperate; Ben closed his eyes for a moment.

"Because I have to. This is not my life any more. Try to understand, Lilly."     

She looked at him as if waiting for a deadly blow.

"Little Flower, you have your love. Let me have mine."

At this she gave a strangled cry of pain, and Ben reached out for her.

She held on tight, but didn't cry. Couldn't. The pain was too strong to be faced. He held her and she held onto him, for as long as she could grab him, she wouldn't fall! 

 

Jenny's hand touched Johnny's forearm, and she squeezed it softly. When he looked at her, he could see her face wet with tears. He nodded at her. _Yes, Jenny understood both Lilly and Ben. She understood how terrible this moment was for both of them. It was a hard lesson for Lilly to learn, perhaps the hardest of her whole life._

 

~~~

 

The next day after breakfast, Jenny watched as Ben and Lilly walked on the well-trodden path away from the house and towards the Northern Meadow.

Ben's arm was around Lilly's shoulder, and Lilly's arm hugged his waist. Their walk was slow and measured; they were as one person. 

Jenny saw a frown on Johnny's face as he watched his wife and his father-in-law.  _Of course. Johnny was still jealous of the relationship they shared. As was she herself, truth be told. But there was nothing either of them could do. Those two would always be the apple of each other's eye._

 

 

When they were out of sight and earshot, Lilly started speaking.

"I can't believe you are leaving tomorrow morning."

Ben nodded. It was a surreal situation for him as well.

"It's better this way, Lilly. You've got your own life - with Johnny and the kids."

Lilly swallowed hard. _Why couldn't you have all the people you loved together?_

"And my life is with Jenny." Ben said it softly, but it stung nevertheless.

Lilly's intake of breath was accompanied by a pain in her chest and a helpless sigh. Ben stopped walking and turned her to look at him. Her eyes were full of tears; they spilled over at his words. _She was hurting. But then, so was he. How to tell her that his love for her hadn't diminished, wouldn't ever lessen, couldn't... simply couldn't!_

Softly, he took her in his arms and bent down so his mouth was at her ear.

"I love you, Little Flower." His voice was low, and Lilly could hear tears in them. "I'll always love you."

She hugged him back, burying her face even deeper in his chest. She nodded. "I know." Her voice was muffled by his shirt. Softly, his right hand stroked her back while his left hand squeezed her curls.

"Make your peace with Johnny, baby," he whispered into her ear. "He is a good man."

Lilly smiled, he could feel it through his shirt. She freed herself from his embrace and looked at him. Her face was tear-streaked but she was smiling happily now.

"I _love_ Johnny, Daddy."

Her eyes were the eyes of the sixteen-year-old girl again, the girl that had fallen in love with a young, gentle man. Ben could see that she meant it. _Lilly had learned her lesson. She wouldn't risk her love again. And she radiated a new self-assurance and happiness. Johnny was a lucky guy!_

He nodded with a soft smile on his lips, and his thumb and forefinger pinched her chin playfully.

She smacked his hand away in play and her expression changed to mock-indignation.

_His little girl. The baby he had held in his arms, the toddler that had fallen asleep in his bed, the schoolgirl that had thrown her satchel in a corner and refused to - ever! - go back to school..._

Tears welled up in him and he enfolded her in an embrace that started out as a slight squeeze but then crushed her to him, squeezing as if to squeeze her essence into himself to keep her there.

 

_NEVER like this again... never would she sit opposite him at the table... never hear his sonorous voice read to her... his ironic remarks that had so often prodded her along, provoking her to do what she didn't want or was scared to do... his hands that had brushed the dust off her blouse and skirt after her first fall from a horse, they would never - never - hold and touch her again..._

_Those hands... which were stroking her hair so tenderly now._

It was too much. Lilly let go - she cried her heart out at his chest, her head safely tucked under his chin. In her desperation she couldn't feel the tears that dropped from his cheeks onto her scalp.

For long minutes nothing could be heard but her sobs. Ben wasn't the man to comfort someone with lies. _She had a right to be sad; they might well never see each other again. All he could hope for was that she was safe and that she was happy... with Johnny... with the children... with her lot in life._

 

~~~

 

"You are looking thoughtful, Jenny."

They sat beside each other in a comfortable compartment in the train that would finally take them back home. "Not happy with us going back?"

The look she gave him made him chuckle, and he took her hand in his and held it.

"Won't you miss them?" she asked him.

Ben shrugged. "Sure. But they can come visit us. Or maybe one day they'll send the children. I don't mind so much."

"Don't you really?" she asked again, and Ben could see that she still needed some reassurance. _How to tell her that this hadn't been a sacrifice?_

He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it.

"I been living this ranch life for more than twenty-five years, Jenny," he said, for the first time trying to put into words what he had felt so strongly about when he had sat on his horse that morning and had said his personal good-bye to his ranch, his horses and a huge part of his life.

"I don't want it no more. For years, I been getting up in winter, helping with the foalings, hardly got a good night's sleep. I been pairing up the stallions and the mares in spring to get the next generation, training the young ones during summer and fall; and then starting all over again in winter."

His voice died away a moment, but it wasn't long before he focused on her again.

"It's been a good time, won't deny that. But it's also been hard work. Damn hard work. And I'm getting old, Jenny. I don't want no part in breaking in the young ones no more. I don't want to get up before sunrise," - he winked at her, - "Not when I can sleep next to you."

She smiled, and if it hadn't been for them sitting in public they wouldn't have resisted the urge to kiss. As it was, she leaned towards him and placed her hand on his shoulder, closing her eyes, listening to his words.

"There's so many things we missed out on," he said, his voice quiet, for her only. "I want to wake up beside you; I want to continue where we had to stop all those years ago." He took a deep breath, his voice even quieter than before. "I want us, Jenny."

Jenny was having a hard time trying not to cry at his shoulder. Her heart was bursting with love for him.

"There's other things, too," he continued. "Things I want to do in San Francisco. Remember Michael, the flower boy?"

She nodded.

"Remember when he told you about him living alone with his mother?"

"Yes."

"I been thinking... we have all this money now. Enough to have an easy life. Why not buy the little white house we saw in Pacific Heights? You'd like to live in a better area, wouldn't you, Jenny?"

She lifted her head and looked at him. _What was on his mind?_

"It's not that you still need to walk to the ocean, is it?" His smirk was wide, his voice dripped with satisfaction that it was _him_ who had made the reason for her daily walks superfluous.

"The white house is awfully big," Jenny remarked. _And it's just the two of us living there since we don't have any children,_ she added in her thoughts.

"I know, but we might have guests staying over. And I've got another idea."

He looked at her, that smug look on his face that told her he had it all planned already. Jenny waited him out. She could see in his eyes that it was important to him.

"What would you say if Michael and his mother come to live with us? The new house is bigger, so Mrs. Wormwood needs help with the cleaning and the cooking, right? We could take Michael and his mother in; put the boy through school, set him up in life."

 _So that was what he wanted! How very typical of him. He had always liked the boy._ Her smile indicated how fully she agreed with him. Ben smiled back at her.

"After all, we owe him, don't we?"

He squeezed her hand, his body language still inconspicuous, his eyes only indicating his desire.

"We do, Benjamin, we do."

He saw her love for him reflected in her eyes. _A pity they were sitting in this compartment, their every move visible to all the other travellers. Ah, well, plenty of time for that later. Plenty of time for themselves. Plenty of time for a whole life together._

He turned his head and looked into the distance, and for a moment she admired his profile. Her hand came up and softly stroked his beard. Briefly he closed his eyes and leaned into her touch, then he spoke again, quietly as before.

"Remember when I told you I was looking for my youth, and you corrected me and said I wasn't looking for my youth, I was trying to make sense of my life? - You were right."

He turned his face and  held her eyes with his. At his next words they grew tender. "I have found it. My life does make sense now, after all these years. It's you, Jenny. You are making my life complete."

"I wouldn't know love if it wasn't for you," Jenny whispered, her voice full of tears. "Even my husband who was a good man could not make me love him as much as I love you." She paused a moment. "I don't know how to live without you any more."

Ben nodded. He knew. He had understood how deeply her love for him was rooted inside her when she would not stand up for herself for fear of losing hi.

"You don't have to live without me any longer," Ben said, squeezing her hand.

Again, she snuggled closer to his side, her head resting on his shoulder once more, her eyes closed. She was drinking in his voice, and he turned his head so his mouth was whispering close to her ear, words for her only.

"We have us, Jenny. We have now. We have tomorrow, and the day after, and all the days and years to come. Quite a number of years, I hope. And at the end of the road, Jenny, when I die, I wanna die peacefully in your arms."

 

They sat beside each other and watched the landscape go by, the steady movement lulling them into a trance, the pa-tam, pa-tam of the train as it hit the points the only sound in their ears. On and on - towards San Francisco.

_Towards Home._

 

THE END

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. The Fairy Tale is "Cat and Mouse in Partnership" by Brothers Grimm.  
> 2\. The Candy Shop is a respectful not to Michael Brandt and Derek Haas who wrote about it in an earlier version of the film script "3:10 to Yuma".

**Author's Note:**

> This story concludes the series "Outlaw".


End file.
